#Faith-based items

[tyej49]

I am an entrepreneur who is passionate about sharing my creative vision with the world. God has blessed me with a gift for cultivating ideas and bringing them to life through various artistic mediums. My mission is to inspire and uplift others through the products I offer. In my entrepreneurial journey, I specialize in creating and selling a range of artistic essentials. From sketchbooks and journals that provide a canvas for self-expression, to puzzles and coloring books that ignite imagination and relaxation, I strive to offer tools that empower individuals to tap into their own creativity. With meticulous attention to detail, I curate a collection of products that captivate and engage people of all ages. Each item is crafted with care, reflecting my commitment to quality and excellence. Through my entrepreneurial pursuits, I aim to provide not just products, but also a source of inspiration and joy for those who encounter them. I am grateful for the opportunity to serve others by sharing the fruits of my creative endeavors. It is my belief that by encouraging artistic expression and providing the means to unlock one's imagination, we can make a positive impact on individuals and communities. As an entrepreneur guided by God's grace, I am humbled by the ability to combine my passion for creativity with the joy of inspiring others. I am committed to continuously evolving and expanding my offerings, as I believe that creativity knows no bounds. Together, let us embark on a journey of exploration, inspiration, and artistic fulfillment.

#Christian gifts #Religious decor #Faith-based items #Inspirational quotes #Bible verses #Christian art #Crosses #Religious jewelry #Spiritual items #Animal: #Animal lovers #Wildlife art #Animal-themed gifts #Pet accessories #Cute animals #Nature-inspired designs #Animal prints #Animal illustrations #Animal photography #Journals: #Writing journals #Blank notebooks #Personal journals #Diary #Note-taking #Creative writing #Journaling supplies #Leather journals #Custom journals #Sketchbooks:

[quenepacrossing]

faith’s house

#the colors are inspired by faith from buffy ofc #the interior is designed based on the aptm the mayor gives her and there’s a punching bag inside so i continued the workout items outside #does anyone who follow me even watch buffy lol #anyways dont ask me what im wearing thats my partner’s character #acnh #acnh design #animal crossing new horizons #acnh exterior #sunnydale

[demonindistress]

Starting some new projects for Medeltidsveckan 2023. Which is up in less than four weeks. None of which is work free. In short, I'm fucked.

The plan is dark grey shorter middle dress with silk trim at the arms and neckline, medium gray apron with possible light hemline, and a blood red shift (because sources what sources?)

As you can see, my comfort zone as far as colour scheme goes, has not expanded.

Started on shortening my hedeby trousers. As they're machine sewn (and not particularly neatly so) , I was less panicky about cutting into them than the silk.

#As usual we'll do the WORST work on the source based items and the most painstaking handicraft on the highly hypothetical pieces #Because I'm an idiot who never learns #And I'm STILL going to do a more faithful job than a certain tv-show... #Medeltidsveckan #Larping #Sewing

[labyrinth-guard]

I have 3 (three) Faith ocs now 💥

The digital concepts under cut

I love all 3 of them so much, though I think my favor leans to Veil Pandora and Rebis since they have a stronger connection to canon than Mr. Atheist in the middle of the woods

#spideer'sart #myart #faith: the unholy trinity oc #faith oc #faith the unholy trinity oc #do i tag canon characters for their mini appearances? #naw i dont wanna bother people just wanting to look at their scrunkles #I may have gotten inspired to make Pandora and Rebis based on the two ritual items #nicholas faith oc #rebis faith oc #pandora faith oc

[arolesbianism]

If nothing else Im just begging dst to not do the easy but lame idea of adding the fleece of the lamb and making it increase follower time. I get it. It makes sense. It's simple to implement. But it's also boring and useless. In begging yall add a fleece that does smth cool

#rat rambles #my personal pick would be fleece of the fates but I think its also one of the least likely #Id have it basically give random buffs during combat while wearing it based on the different cotl cards #a fun lil gamble #I think more realistically theyd probably do the god of death fleece or like ssid above the default fleece #I could see them doing both tho #the god of death fleece would probably either do recoil damage to reflect the diseased hearts it gives you or have some gimic with killing #enemies like regaining durability on kills or gaining temporary buffs depending on ur dps or smth #like Id hope theyd try to make smth at least usable yknow? I rly dont care how faithful it is as long as I could reasonably use it #like the eyemask and eyesheild in dst are just the devs pulling shit out of their ass but they still have smth unique #and they can be worth using if you feel you can remember to feed them #theyre quite simple but still worth picking up yknow? #I feel like thats my bar with any hypothetical items from this colab too #just like. worth picking up even if it will kinda fall off late game. #that again assuming this colab will add new items but Im chosing to trust that it will

[to-dance-beneath-the-diamond-sky]

Hey if anyone's feeling hopeless and helpless about what's going on in Gaza (and the West Bank and the world at large) right now, I HIGHLY recommend Jewish Voice for Peace's daily Power Half Hour calls. They're every weekday over zoom from 3:00-3:30pm EST.

They're open to everyone, regardless of faith and they're really really grounding. Every day we take collective action together and complete easy short action items -- like calling our reps -- together while on the call. I cannot stress enough how much the calls are doing to keep me sane and still able to fight.

The JVP power half hour calls are primarily US-based but there are people tuning in from all over the world and sharing actions and news from their respective countries.

Anyways, you can sign up to be on their email list and receive notifications and invitations to the calls through JVP's website

or you can use this link directly to join the calls every day

you can also watch the livestream of them on youtube here

#free palestine #JVP #jewish voice for peace #palestine #gaza #free palestine 🇵🇸 #🇵🇸 #long live palestine

[spectralreplica]

Uhhhhhhhh Sburb AU!! This was more of an excuse to classpect and make sprites, so don’t ask me questions about plot details because I put like zero thought into it. Tsumugi probably had something to do with setting up the session, and she’s hiding her real title and the fact it’s not her first session. Baby Kiibo is a robot baby because I thought that was the funniest option.

Drawing with anti-aliasing off really brings me back...

Classpect thoughts under the cut if you really want:

Immediate caveat: I mention speculative stuff here like unconfirmed active/passive class pairs and inversion theory. If you don’t like those things or otherwise disagree with the titles I gave people that’s fine but just know I’m not super interested in debating about it and won’t reply.

So, to start out with I wanted to make the 8 of them a session, so I needed no overlaps in class or aspect and one Time + one Space. I also wanted to have Kaito and Kokichi as opposing aspects. In general, I think of a Title as kind of the end of your assigned character arc, so depending on your level of maturity/introspection at the start, it can seem either really obvious or really unintuitive. I tried to base them off of the hypothetical chapter 6/survivor versions of characters, since those (plus maybe the chapter 5 deaths) of the ones that get a full arc in DR canon.

Immediately Tsumugi seemed like a deadringer for Space, not so much because of the literal physics-related stuff but because of its associations with creation/narratives and setting things up for other people to act. I made her Sylph of Space here, but that's a facade. She's actually a Muse of Space who participated in past session(s) and wants to watch how things play out.

Based on the Extended Zodiac description, Kaito or Kaede has to be time, but Kokichi CANNOT be Space by any stretch of the imagination. I made her Heir of Time with the interpretation of Heir as someone who invites change/influences of/through their aspect. Time is also associated with music and death, which is both fitting and a little mean. (I can also see Kaede as Breath outside of having to have someone be Time.)

So moving onto Kaito and Kokichi, I was considering Hope vs Rage (belief vs doubt, possibility vs restrictions), but 1) Rage is defined partially by hatred of lies despite otherwise sounding Kokichi-ish (that alone could be interesting, with the possibility of a negative/reverse title or else giving him Hope and Kaito Rage for the unexpected swerve........) 2) I really wanted to give Hope to Kiibo. So instead I went with Heart and Mind (emotion vs logic, intuition vs planning, identity/motivation vs action/decisiveness).

Kokichi is Thief of Mind for taking away other people's decisions for his own purposes but also for generally "stealing" things (e.g., the Mastermind Role, narrative importance in general, along with literal items) through his own cleverness. Vs Kaito, a Knight of Heart, who uses his constructed identity as a weapon to face challenges. I'm also a fan of inversion theory, so I think at low points they'd both trend towards Page of Heart (grows powerful late in the narrative based on his own ego/identity) and Rogue of Mind (taking choices/agency/logic away from people for their own good), respectively.

I always wanted Kiibo to be Hope since 1) Ult. Hope Robot 2) big on possibilities/faith but can be a little self-centered. I went with Bard at least partially to make a "guess we know whether he has a dick or not now!" joke, but I also think "inviting destruction through Hope, inviting destruction of (false) hope" is pretty spot on for chapter 6 Kiibo. Like, as the camera/audience surrogate, he's been forced into passively leading the others to despair, not to mention how the audience takes him over to destroy the hope of ending the show. But Kiibo ends up reversing this and helping destroy the audience's faith in Danganronpa, destroying the whole academy in accordance with the vote. (Sidenote: I wonder if Kiibo gets taken over by Horrorterrors and goes grimdark? Or if he's just really, really susceptible to orders from his Exile)

Shuichi, Page of Void, was another one that immediately came to mind. Like, "starts off weak but becomes really strong/important by the end" is Shuichi's thing! Also, counterpart to Kaito's Knight. And Void is all about secrets, mystery, etc. From the Extended Zodiac: "Where others might be compelled to go out and seek answers, the Void-bound lean more toward casting doubt on what is already considered understood. They don't take much on faith and would rather live in a state of confusion- than believe something that might be untrue or bow to intellectual authority... At their best, Void-bound are wise, intuitive, and vibrant. At their worst, they can be dismissive, indecisive and apathetic." 

I had considering Light, for seeking out knowledge/truth, but Shuichi's character arc ends on "fuck you, I refuse to play. You all get nothing more from us" and learning to live with ambiguity, so I think he's way more Void. But, again, inversion would be Thief of Light, so selfishly taking away knowledge/importance from others.

Speaking of Light, I made Miu Mage of Light. Mage is like, active Seer, seeking out knowledge for yourself (vs advising others) and Light is luck, knowledge, and also importance/plot relevance. As an inventor, Miu keeps innovating and figuring things out, plus she's very motivated by her own importance to the world. She wants to be seen more than anything else and loves being smarter than those around her. Also: "At their best, the Light-bound are resourceful and driven. At their worst they can be fussy, pedantic, and insensitive." Inversion is Heir of Void, so "inviting change via hiding things" or "changing what's kept secret", which suits Miu when plotting murder.

Finally, Maki is Prince of Blood. Blood is trust, bonds, relationships, stubbornness, duty, obligation (vs freedom, change, choices) so "someone who breaks bonds/destroys relationships" but also "someone who destroys using/motivated by duty/relationships". Like, Maki is inherently a fracture point in the group because of her talent and then directly breaks the group apart and sabotages her relationships with the others in chapter 5, but also she's deeply motivated by her bonds to others in all of her destructive actions (protectiveness for orphanage/friend, love for Kaito). This sound super negative, but I think this is also the Maki who commits to destroying the institution of Danganronpa in chapter 6. Sometimes you have to be decisive and cut bad relationships out of your life.

Inversion would be Sylph of Breath, so "healing via change" or "encouraging growth towards freedom", which you can argue is sort of the way Kaito wants her to go? But she just doesn't. Idk, for better or worse, I think Maki is very aware of who she is and how people related to her, so even at her worst she's true to herself, vs, say, Kaito or Kokichi, who act "ooc".

#Homestuck #Kokichi Oma #Kaito Momota #Miu Iruma #Shuichi Saihara #Kaede Akamatsu #Maki Harukawa #Kiibo #Tsumugi Shirogane #New Danganronpa V3 #Danganronpa #Sburb AU #Spectra Art

[cybrsan]

Miracle Of The Season — J.JK

STORY SUMMARY: Cast out of Heaven after a painful betrayal, you find yourself having to navigate the intricacies of human life without any guidance from the Creator or the family you have always known. Things only get worse as the holiday season reaches its peak, with reminders of the life you left behind everywhere you look. When a familiar face pops up, you aren’t sure whether to consider it a blessing or a curse.

PAIRING: Angel Jungkook x Fallen Angel F!Reader

RATING/GENRE: M ; angst, fluff, smut ; second chance romance, angel AU, soulmate AU

WORD COUNT: 17.2k

WARNINGS: Heavy themes of religious trauma, an initially negative view of Christianity transforming into a more neutral/respectful view of individual faiths, initial dismissal of other religions, difficult self-growth journey, homelessness, very brief mentions of murder and rape

OTHER/NSFW WARNINGS: Sharing one-bed trope (kinda), mistletoe trope (teehee), first time, fingering, cunnilingus, hand job, unprotected sex

A/N: This is a lot. The story definitely got away from me, but I think that's because there was so much I wanted to say. I definitely could have made this longer, and if I had time/wasn't such a slow writer, I probably would have. It's a heavy topic, but it's one that is near and dear to my heart and one that I think a lot of people can relate to. If you do, I hope this story feels a bit healing.

A/N 2: This is based on the vibes of his song "Standing Next To You" and the m/v for it.

LINKS: Part of the Jingle All The Way! collab with my talented, wonderful friends. Cross-posted on AO3 and (eventually) Wattpad. Banner made by the lovely @kithtaehyung.

"—let it snow, let it snow, let it snow!"

You take a deep, calming breath as you pass the carolers. Their cheerful voices grate on your nerves, but you keep your head down and continue walking. Lashing out at them won't do any good, even if it might give you a moment of satisfaction. It's not like they're the source of your irritation anyway; the crowded streets are abuzz with the unrelenting chaos of the Christmas season, and you have been on edge all morning. 

Turning a corner, you enter a street closer to the shelter you have been calling home for the past year and a half. Immediately, some of your tension dissipates, and you feel like you can breathe a bit easier. There are fewer lights here and less noise, but a few decorations still attract your attention, like a moth to a flame. A nativity scene is proudly displayed in someone's window, and you stop dead in your tracks.

"Freedom of religion, my ass," you mutter bitterly as you tear your gaze away. Why does everyone and their mother seem to celebrate this stupid holiday? 

You know that for many, Christmas isn’t necessarily a holy season. Some humans just use the holiday as an excuse to wear obnoxious sweaters, play the same song on repeat, and spoil one another with gifts. Yet reminders of the celestial realm, of the life you have been cast out from, are everywhere. The nativity, for one. Then there are the carolers singing their songs, and the cartoonish cherub decals that can be found on shop windows, holding banners that proclaim, “Buy one, get one 20% off!” Even the name of the holiday is marked by one of His monikers. Christmas. 

It makes you sick. 

The weather doesn't help, either. Drawing your coat more tightly around yourself, you try to ignore the relentless chill that settles deep in your bones. You’re definitely not dressed warmly enough, ill-prepared considering the sensation of being cold is something you’re still getting used to. It is yet another item you have added to your ever-growing list of "whys.” The question of why God created snow joins the ranks of "why did He make spiders?" and "why is He the most selfish being in existence?" 

You sniff. Perhaps you let your emotions get the best of you at times.  

Emotions. Another thing that’s somewhat new. As an angel, you didn’t really have those. The only thing you ever thought about was following orders and how better you could praise His name. Ugh. It’s hard to believe now that you were ever so single-minded. Though, towards the end, you suppose that wasn’t the case. It all went awry when you started this “list” of yours—when you started questioning things. 

The moment that doubt had first crept into your mind seems like a lifetime ago. Reaching the status of archangel was something you had been working toward for millennia. It was a position that allowed you to work more closely with humanity; you were able to actually guide their paths and alter their destiny. 

At first, it was everything you had ever wanted. The miracles that occurred because of your intervention made you feel like you were doing something worthwhile. But you quickly learned that not all of your missions would be quite as fulfilling. 

You will never forget the first time you were put in charge of administering a holy test. The man had done nothing wrong, yet your higher-ups still insisted that he needed to be "tried by fire." The divine reasons were beyond comprehension, or so you were told. But watching the man suffer as everything he loved was taken from him, seeing the desperation and despair in his eyes… It felt wrong. That feeling stayed with you even as you watched the man's faith remain unbroken. Somehow, that made it worse. 

And then there were those who committed sinful acts and escaped punishment. You saw murderers and rapists living their lives in peace while innocent souls suffered unjustly at their hands. The scales of justice seemed unfairly balanced, and you began to feel crushed by the weight of your guilt.

Thus, the degradation process began. For the longest time, you thought it was a myth, a scary story told to keep angels in line. If you doubt, if you disobey, you begin withering away into nothingness. You'll start to feel things, to lose your sense of purpose. It will be painful and overwhelming and, eventually, you'll cease to exist entirely. You were told that if it were to happen, you must report it to a superior at once. But you were terrified. 

There was only one person you trusted enough to share the way you were feeling—your other half, your celestial counterpart. The one who knew you like no other did. Your Astrom, Jungkook. 

There is an old celestial folk tale that documents the first creation of an Astrom pair. It is said God took one star and split it into two. Neither half could live without the other, nor would they want to. It is difficult to describe the way you felt for him, as angels are devoid of personal desires or emotions as humans experience them. It was simply as if being with him was as natural as breathing. He was the only being other than the Creator that you felt beholden to, that you admired. 

When you first revealed your doubts to him, he simply listened, displaying a level of patience that you found comforting. He answered your questions about morality, about justice as best he could, trying to reassure you that everything happened for a reason. Yet no matter how persuasively he argued, your doubts wouldn't go away. 

Eventually, you began to start contemplating letting yourself fall from grace. The thought was terrifying, but at the same time, there was a certain allure to it. To Fall meant to renounce your celestial responsibilities, and that included no longer having to inflict pain on innocent souls. 

When you confessed this dangerous thought to him, Jungkook gave you a look that you couldn't decipher. All you remember is what he said next: "If you Fall, I shall Fall with you."

His words had been unexpected, and you didn’t know whether to take comfort in them or not. You didn’t want him to share your fate, to bear the burden of your guilt. Could you live with yourself if he Fell too? The answer was an obvious no. But the mere thought of being alone in your struggle was something you couldn’t stomach either. So, you attempted to keep your dissent to a minimum and perform your duties as required. But it wasn’t long before everything fell apart regardless.

Eventually, you were discovered and brought before the celestial court. You were accused of blasphemy since questioning Him was an unforgivable sin and sentenced to Fall, to be cast out from the life you have always known. Yet, the real blow came when you found out who had betrayed you. 

Jungkook.

Your Astrom. 

The one you had trusted implicitly, the other half of your celestial star, had betrayed you in the name of divine loyalty. The pain of the Fall, the feeling of your grace ripped from your body, the scorching burn of your wings as they turned to ash—none of this could compete with the raw, gut-wrenching anguish of his betrayal. 

Even now, months later, remembering makes you feel as if you can't breathe, as if you might die. Every memory of him is like a punch to the gut, and the city, so full of noise and life, does nothing to drown out the agony. Some days, the pain is so vivid and unbearable that it feels as though you are Falling all over again.

A rough shove against your shoulder makes you stumble, and the man who ran into you barely grunts out an apology before continuing past. At least the disruption is a timely one, allowing you to pull yourself out of your thoughts before you spiral. There’s no point focusing on the past when there’s nothing you to do to change it, especially not when you have a myriad of new human concerns to deal with.  

Your job hunt was, once again, unsuccessful. You keep telling yourself that it’s because it’s so close to the holidays and you’ll have a better chance once the new year comes. In reality, you’re sure it’s because you have no experience, no schooling, and no useful knowledge.

At least you’re familiar enough with the city now that zoning out didn’t prevent you from getting to your destination. 

Lost Star Shelter.

The place you’ve been calling home. It’s certainly not perfect, but little on Earth ever is. You feel awful stepping past the crowd of people waiting outside its doors, knowing that they, like you, have nowhere else to go. You've been fortunate enough to secure your spot due to your volunteering efforts and the fact that the manager, Naomi, seems to have taken a liking to you. But not everyone is so lucky. 

You step inside, greeted by the familiar smells of disinfectant and something cooking in the kitchen. The place is buzzing with activity as usual—mothers trying to soothe crying children, elderly folks chatting away in groups, and a few lone souls quietly scrawling job applications. 

"Long day?" Naomi catches your gaze from behind the front desk, her warm smile a stark contrast to the weariness etched in the lines of her face. 

"Isn't it always?" You head over and pick up the clipboard she slides toward you, scanning your list of tasks for the day. As expected, it's long hours of mindless labor, but you don't mind. Not only do you need to earn your place here, but volunteering gives you a sense of purpose similar to your previous heavenly duties. And you have the satisfaction of knowing you're actually helping, not harming.

"First on the list," Naomi points to an item at the top of your clipboard, "is the donations room. We just had a big drop-off and could use some extra hands sorting through it all. But grab some dinner before you start, okay?"

You nod, her straightforward nature getting a slight smile out of you. "Yes, ma'am."

You navigate your way towards the crowded dining area, where a line of people has formed, waiting for their turn to get served. The cooks, all volunteers like yourself, are bustling about, serving portions of the day's meal which looks to be a thick stew accompanied by fresh bread. The food is simple but hearty, more than enough to keep you working through the evening. You make a mental note to slip into the kitchen later and thank them for their hard work.

You find an empty seat at one of the long tables that occupy the space, making yourself at home amongst the people who are engrossing themselves in their meals or with idle chatter. You even join in on a conversation with some older women across the table, who are engaged in a spirited debate about soap operas. Your knowledge of pop culture is sparse at best, but they seem delighted to fill you in on the latest drama, their laughter infectious. 

After your meal, you make your way towards the donations room. The sight of piled-up clothes, toys, blankets, and other items is both overwhelming and heartwarming. Naomi wasn't kidding when she said they'd received a large drop-off. It's a daunting task, but you roll up your sleeves and get to work. You start by sorting through the clutter, meticulously separating everything into various categories—men's clothes, women's clothes, children's clothes, etc., and items that need repairs or cleaning. Hours pass by unnoticed, the rhythm of work almost meditative.

Your thoughts inevitably wander back to Jungkook. A pang of longing shoots through you. He was the one who would always be by your side when you had to perform menial tasks like this in the celestial realm. You wonder what he would think of your new life. Does he look down on you from up high with pity or disdain, or does he simply not think of you at all? You aren't sure if you even want to know the answer. 

As time wears on, the room gradually becomes less cluttered and more organized. You're just about to take a break when Naomi appears at the doorway, her aging features softened by the warm glow of the hallway light behind her. She takes in your progress with an approving nod. 

"You've done well," she says, stepping into the room. 

You can't help but feel a sense of pride at her words. "Thank you, Naomi." 

She strolls around the room, her observant gaze sweeping over the sorted piles, her hands touching a few items here and there.

"It's amazing," she finally says, "how much kindness there is out there, even when it seems like everything is falling apart. No matter how rough things get, we can choose to be generous, choose to help others. That's what makes us human."

Her words resonate with you. You’ve seen the worst and best of humanity firsthand; the same species that wages wars also unite in times of crisis, offering support and showing kindness to total strangers. How much is influenced by higher powers and how much is purely human nature, you wouldn't presume to know. Your very existence has blurred the lines between supernatural influence and mortal will. 

"True," you say, looking up at Naomi from where you're still seated on the floor surrounded by donations. "That’s a nice way to look at things."

Naomi's smile broadens at that, and she gives one last cursory glance around the room before saying, "Well, I'll let you get back to work. Don't stay up too late."

"Goodnight, Naomi," you call after her as she steps out into the hallway, half-waving at you as she goes.

A little over an hour later, you step back to admire your work. Each item has been categorized, ready to be cleaned and redistributed. You move on to your next set of responsibilities: cleaning up the common areas and helping close up for the night. 

The smell of cleaning supplies clings to your skin as you make your way back to your sleeping quarters—a small, shared room filled with single beds. Careful not to disturb anyone, you move towards your assigned bed, its familiar creaks and groans echoing softly under your weight as you settle into it. Exhaustion pulls at your muscles, but you need to wash up and change before you sleep. 

You grab your shower caddy, change of clothes, and quietly make your way to the women’s bathroom. The fluorescent white lights flicker to life as you enter, revealing a row of curtained shower cubicles. You choose one at the end and let the water heat up as you undress. The hot water cascades over your tired body, soothing your muscles and washing away the sweat and grime that has built up throughout the day. 

Shower done and teeth brushed, you pull on fresh clothes and make your way back to your bed. As you settle back down under the covers, you notice something strange on your bedsheet. A crisp scorch mark is visible against the fabric, and when you observe it more closely, you're shocked to realize that the shape almost looks like… fingers? Your heart hammers in your chest. 

"Impossible," you whisper to yourself. 

The sight of these burns is not unfamiliar to you; in fact, you have been the cause of such marks before. It is a common occurrence when celestial beings interact with the mortal world—remnants of their powerful energy left behind. But as you stare at them now, a sense of unease creeps over you. Could it be Jungkook? The thought flickers through your mind, but you quickly brush it aside. Why would he make himself known in this way and then vanish without even seeing you? You can't allow yourself to hope. 

Dismissing the thought, you force yourself to rationalize that it must have been an accident. Perhaps someone burned it while it was being ironed. It’s easy enough to convince yourself; after all, it’s only three and a half slender marks—it could be anything. But the unease remains as you lay down on the bed, your mind filled with questions. You eventually succumb to sleep from sheer exhaustion, your dreams filled with memories of Jungkook.

The next day passes in a blur—the usual routine of job applications, food preparation, and cleaning duties. The burn mark on your bedsheet remains a mystery. You track down the volunteer who did the laundry, and she swears she wouldn't be so careless as to burn someone’s belongings. Despite her assurances, it's the only explanation you are willing to believe. You return to your bed to find that the sheet has been replaced with a fresh one, the burn mark gone as if it never existed.

You spot an older man sitting on a bed in the corner; his mouth moves silently, and the rosary beads dangling from his fingers lead you to believe he’s praying. A small, faux Christmas tree, no larger than a water bottle, stands on a box next to him. The sight stirs something with you, an uncomfortable feeling once again settling in your gut. You don’t understand his faith. How can someone continue to pray to a God that has obviously forsaken him?

You wait until the man finishes and safely tucks the rosary beads into his shirt pocket, right above his heart, before you approach.

“Excuse me?”

He looks up at you with a smile, eyes crinkling around the edges. "What can I help you with, dear?" 

"I noticed you praying," you begin tentatively. Despite your personal qualms with religion, you don’t want to seem as if you are disrespecting him or his beliefs. "I hope you don't mind my asking, but how do you keep your faith? Under these circumstances?"

He doesn't seem bothered at all by your blunt question. Instead, he chuckles softly and pats the bed beside him, inviting you to sit down. You hesitate a moment before complying.

"Faith isn't about having all the answers," he starts, his voice a mere whisper in the quiet room. "It isn't about being rewarded for good deeds or punished for bad ones. It's about hope. It's about believing that things will get better."

“Hope? Still? Despite… despite being here? I mean, aren’t you upset with God?” Your voice is barely above a whisper as well, a mixture of curiosity and frustration seeping into your words.

He remains silent for a while, his gaze wandering towards the small Christmas tree on the box beside him. 

"No, I'm not upset with God," he finally replies. "Man is given free will, and it is man who chooses what to do with it. Crisis, poverty… God didn't create these. They're the consequences of human choices." His words are sincere, spoken with a calmness that only comes from years of contemplation. "God doesn't promise us that life will always be easy or free from hardships. But He does promise that He will be there in those times of trouble. You see, faith isn't about expecting God to fix our problems, but about having the strength to face them."

“I envy your strength,” you admit with a hint of admiration in your voice.

“Strength is born from struggle, dear. You’ll find your way soon enough.” 

“I hope you’re right.”

The conversation lingers in your mind long after the man's words have faded into silence. You sit on your bunk, staring at the ceiling, pondering them. His unshakable faith is both alien and inspiring to you. Even when you were an archangel, before any doubts seeped into your mind, your faith was nothing like his. It was a duty, an obligation, a resolute certainty that was less about personal beliefs and more about the world you were born into. 

His mention of hope sticks out to you the most. You look around the room again, taking note of the different symbols of faith scattered across the room—crosses, menorahs, and even a small prayer mat in one corner. Each person in this room believes in something larger than themselves, something that gives them hope. And you? You're not certain what you believe in anymore. But maybe, just maybe, some of your anger has been misplaced. 

As the daylight fades, you find yourself wandering outside, the crisp evening air bringing a kind of comfort you couldn't find inside. You walk aimlessly, your feet following the now-familiar sidewalks. You end up in a park, and you make a seat for yourself on a deserted bench.

Looking up into the sky, now painted with hues of orange and pink, you let yourself miss Heaven for just a minute. To miss Jungkook. Even the Creator. You can never go back to worshipping Him, nor do you want to, but you can't deny the connection that once was. As much as you wish everything never happened, you are grateful for how much you've grown since. 

Suddenly, you’re disoriented by a bright flash of light and a shrill, piercing sound that makes your entire body jolt. You shut your eyes and cover your ears, but it does nothing to dull the pain. It's as if the noise is coming from inside your mind. You half-crawl, half-fall off the bench, curling in on yourself, unable to think anything, do anything, until it finally comes to a stop. 

The world pauses around you; the birds stop chirping, the wind stops blowing, and people are frozen where they walk. A familiar feeling washes over you, and your breath catches in your throat. You can’t bring yourself to open your eyes. Even in this form, even as a human, his presence calls to your very soul. You hadn’t realized how incomplete you felt, how empty you were, without him by your side. He’s your other half, and he always will be. The realization makes you want to cry. You had hoped after the Fall, after you became human, that would cease to be true. You can’t stand the fact that you’re still irrevocably tied to him, even after all that he’s done. As always, fate is cruel.

“Y/N.”

He speaks your name with a quiet reverence as if he can hardly believe you’re there in front of him. The familiar, honeyed tone of his voice reignites your longing for him with full force, but you still stubbornly keep your eyes closed. You can’t look at him. You aren’t strong enough.

“I cannot believe you are alive.”

What?

His statement shocks you enough that your eyes fly open of their own accord, and for the first time in months, you're met with the sight of Jungkook. You're not sure if you perceive him differently now that you are mortal, but he's even more captivating than you remember. 

His dark hair curls softly atop his head and is tousled ever-so-perfectly. His skin is beautifully tanned, and the way his tall figure is silhouetted against the sun makes it seem like he's glowing. His wings are obsidian, gargantuan in size, seemingly consuming the entire park with their reach. He's magnificent, so beautiful it hurts.

But it is his eyes that have you frozen in your spot—those beautiful, brown doe eyes, filled with so much emotion that it takes your breath away. He's not supposed to be able to feel unless… unless he has begun the degradation process, as you had.   

“Y/N,” he repeats, his voice trembling. "I thought you were dead." 

“I don't understand,” you manage to choke out, trying to sound more composed than you feel. You pull yourself to your feet, grimacing at the pain radiating throughout your body. How much of it is physical and how much is emotional, you can't tell. 

He takes a step closer to you, his hands outstretched as if to ensure that you're real, but you recoil instinctively. He flinches at your reaction but still grabs your arms, grip unrelenting even as you attempt to pull away from him. 

“Protective markings have been burned onto your ribs.” Hurt flashes across his features. “Were you hiding from me?”

“What? No.” You manage to break free and back up a few steps, putting some distance between you. You feel exposed and vulnerable under his gaze, remembering how he always seemed to know what you were thinking even before you did. "I didn't even know I had them."

"I need you to explain everything," he demands. 

“You need me to explain?" You scoff and cross your arms over your chest defensively. "What about you?”

“Me?” He tilts his head slightly, his confusion obvious.

“Yes, you!" You take a step closer, anger simmering just beneath the surface. "After all, you’re how I ended up in this situation, right?” 

“What are you talking about?”

"You betrayed me!" you hiss. “I confided in you, and you told me you understood. That you were with me. And then you turned around and proclaimed me a blasphemer!” 

He doesn’t respond right away, and it’s as if you can see the cogs turning in his head as he pieces things together. “Y/N… I would never.” 

His admittance makes you pause. Angels aren’t supposed to lie, though you know not everyone abides by that law. However, Jungkook has always been one of the most dedicated to the commandments. 

“That’s not what Namsu told me.”

“Namsu? The Throne?” 

“Yes, the Throne. The one who exiled me on the orders of up high.”

His eyebrows furrow. “You… were exiled? You did not wither?”

"Wither?" you scoff. "That's a myth, Jungkook. A cover-up to hide the fact that when angels start to stand up for what they think is right, they get cast out. And it's thanks to you that I'm here now."

"I… no." The intensity behind the word takes you aback. "I just wanted to help you; I thought you were sick. I went to one of the Cherubim for guidance—I would have never turned you in for some kind of punishment." 

His words hang in the air, making your heart pound in your chest. He was trying to help you? The thought sends a flurry of conflicting emotions through you. 

"Help me?" You repeat his words, mocking him in your disbelief. "Your way of helping got me exiled! Cast down and made mortal."

"I did not—" He cuts himself off, his gaze dropping to the ground. "I never meant for any of this to happen."

"Yet it did!" you snap, crossing your arms tightly around yourself as if they could somehow shield you from the pain his presence brings. "And now I'm here, and nothing will ever be the same!"

"I am so sorry." His apology is whispered so softly that you almost don't catch it. But you do, and it hits you like a punch in the gut.

Your head feels as if it's about to implode. He didn't purposefully betray you—in fact, he was trying to save you. But even so, his actions have led to your downfall, and now you're stuck here on earth, far from the light of Heaven, vulnerable and mortal, while he remains immortal and untouchable. Perhaps that's the part that hurts the most. The fact that now you are separated not by betrayal but by the very nature of your beings. 

Your voice cracks as tears fill your eyes. "If all this is true, then why wouldn’t you have looked for me?”

“I looked everywhere at first, but I could not sense you anymore.” If it was possible, you think he would be crying too. “Namsu is the one who told me what happened. He said that you… that your doubt consumed you, and you did not survive.”

The information hits you like a ton of bricks. Your knees almost give out for a second time, but Jungkook reaches out and grabs you by the elbows, steadying you. 

"I… I had no idea." A bitter laugh escapes your lips as you look up at him. "You didn't know anything, and I presumed the worst of you." 

His fingers tighten around your arms in a reassuring squeeze. "We can always start over, Y/N." 

"Start over?" you echo, incredulous. "You make it sound so easy."

"And why would it not be? We were not the ones to blame for our separation. Come back with me."

"I'm human now. The only way I can come back is… is if I'm dead."

His grip loosens, his face paling at your words. "I did not mean to suggest… Of course, I do not want you to die," he hastily corrects himself, glancing down at the ground. His wings flutter uneasily behind him, betraying his discomfort. "There must be another way."

"If there was, would it even be safe? I mean, why would Namsu do this?" you ask, staring at him. You're not sure if you're asking him or simply musing aloud. Even so, the question hangs heavily in the silence between you.

Finally, after what seems like an eternity, Jungkook speaks again. His voice is barely above a whisper when he says, "I wish I had the answers you seek, but I don't. All I know is that I will do everything in my power to rectify this situation." He turns away from you, scanning the horizon as if searching for something. "I need to return and confront Namsu. He must account for his actions."

"No, it's too dangerous. What if he forces you to Fall, too? You can't risk it, Jungkook." 

He looks back at you, his expression hardening. "I will not let him get away with this, Y/N," he says resolutely. "Deception is not a virtue of a Throne, especially not in such grave matters."

"And you won't let him, but you need to go about this carefully. Going to him directly won't work—he's too powerful."

Jungkook tilts his head, regarding you skeptically. "It almost sounds as if you are asking me to be deceitful." 

"Not deceitful, just… stealthy?" 

He doesn’t respond immediately, his brow furrowed as he mulls over your words. After a moment, he exhales slowly, pulling back from you to pace the grass in thought. "Stealthy," he repeats slowly, his voice distant. "That would require careful planning. Secret meetings. Misdirection."

"Yes," you agree, watching him closely. "All of that."

He stops suddenly, turning to look at you. "Very well. I will do whatever it takes to get to the bottom of this."

Your chest tightens, and you gnaw at your bottom lip. His resolve both comforts and worries you. You don't want him to risk himself for you, but part of you is happy that he is willing.

"However,” Jungkook breaks your train of thought. "It sounds like I may need to be a little bit more human to pull this off. After all, none of this comes easily to angels, but mortals lie all the time."

You raise an eyebrow. "And how are you going to achieve that?"

"You will have to teach me, of course." He says this as if doing so will be the easiest thing in the world. “The degradation process has already started for me, as I am sure you are aware. It should be easy.”

"You're serious?" 

Jungkook had always been so straight-laced, the epitome of angelic perfection. The idea of him playing at being human is almost laughable.

"Completely," he responds, his intense gaze never wavering. "I am willing to do whatever it takes to bring Namsu to justice and try to fix this. Fix us. If that requires adopting some mortal habits, then so be it."

"Alright," you finally concede, shaking your head in amusement. "Time for a crash course in 'how to be a human' 101."

He smiles faintly at that, the corners of his mouth tipping upwards just so. It's a small thing, barely noticeable amidst the tension still hanging heavily in the air between you two, but it's enough. Enough to remind you that the way you felt about him in Heaven, despite not being able to feel, was some kind of love. You don't know where that leaves you now or what you're going to do about it, but procrastination is another human skill you have come to love. Maybe you'll teach him that eventually.

"Lesson one," you start, pointing a finger at him in mock sternness. "Humans don't always speak so formally or in such grandiose phrases. ‘I am going to bring Namsu to justice' sounds archaic or like something a two-bit superhero would say."

His lips quirk upward into a more genuine smile this time. "I see," he replies, his voice deliberately casual. "So how would a human say it?"

"Well, for starters, you could use slang," you suggest. 

Jungkook’s brows furrow, an almost comical look of concentration on his face. “Slang,” he repeats, testing the word on his tongue.

“Yes, slang. Humans don’t always pronounce every single word, and they often come up with new, shorter words to replace certain phrases. You could say something like, 'Namsu’s gonna get what he deserves.'”

He nods, repeating your words slowly. “Namsu... is going to get what he deserves.”

You burst out laughing at his attempt. The prim, stoic angel fumbling his way through human speech? It is truly a sight to behold. 

"Laughing at my expense?" He feigns hurt, but there's a playful twinkle in his eyes that gives him away. "I guess that's lesson two then: humans are full of mirth and mockery."

"You're catching on quickly," you reply, still giggling slightly. “And yes, we like to laugh.”

He observes you a moment longer before finally allowing a soft chuckle to escape his lips. It's a deep, rich sound, but it feels tentative like he's not quite sure if he's doing it right.

“Laughing…" he murmurs, puzzling over the concept. “Such a peculiar expression of joy. But I like it." 

"As you should," you reply, a grin still playing across your face. "It's one of the best parts about being human."

Jungkook studies you for a moment, a smile tugging at his lips. "It suits you."

"Hm? What does?"

"Being human."

"I’m not sure whether to take that as a compliment or an insult.” 

"There is a certain spontaneity in humans. A vibrancy that angels lack." Jungkook’s gaze intensifies, his voice lowering to almost a whisper as he steps closer. "It makes you shine more brightly. Like the sun."

He's so close to you now that you can make out the subtle flecks of gold in his eyes. Your heart pounds in your chest as his words wash over you, warming you from the inside out. 

"That—" You clear your throat, trying to steady your shaking voice. "That sounds like a compliment."

"It is," he confirms, his gaze flickering down to your lips for a brief second before rising back to meet your eyes. "But it is also an observation. A fact."

You want to kiss him. The thought shocks you—you've never kissed someone before, let alone wanted to. It must be a human impulse. You can't help but imagine what it might feel like, the warmth of his lips against yours, his skin beneath your fingertips. You want to feel his hand on your cheek, his fingers tangling in your hair. But the danger of your respective positions impedes that thought, and you push it down. He's an angel. You're not. Him being your Astrom, the connection you had before your Fall, none of it matters now.

"Okay," you manage to squeak out, trying to ignore the electricity that seems to be sparking between your too-close bodies. "Human lesson number three: we're big on personal space."

"Oh?" Jungkook raises an eyebrow but doesn't step away. "Is this too close?"

You swallow hard. "A bit."

You swear you see a hint of mischievousness cross his features before he complies, stepping back just enough to leave a sliver of space between you. "Better?" 

"Now you're just teasing me," you retort, though there's a soft smile playing on your lips.

"Is that frowned upon?" 

"No," you admit. "In fact, it's quite human of you. Now, it’s time for a real challenge." He looks at you quizzically. "We have to convince Naomi to let you stay at the shelter." 

"Ah," he nods, understanding dawning on him. "I see. Another part of being human—negotiation."

"Exactly."

"Then lead the way." With a snap of his fingers, time resumes for the two of you and his wings have disappeared, making him appear fully human, and you head back to Lost Star.

"Naomi, please," you beg, giving your boss the best puppy eyes you can muster. "He needs a place to stay." 

Naomi crosses her arms over her chest and drags her gaze over Jungkook in a way that suggests she's scrutinizing every cell of his being, from the top of his head down to the tips of his toes. "There's no extra beds, hun. I'm sorry, there's nothing I can do." 

"Then he can stay with me!"

"You and him, sharing that tiny little twin bed?" She scoffs. "I'd like to see you try."

"We'll make it work!"

"It's still against the rules. One body to one bed." 

"I know it's not ideal, but just for a few days until we figure out something else," you urge her. "I wouldn't be asking you this if it wasn't important." 

Jungkook steps forward, interjecting smoothly, "I will respect the rules, and if you feel my presence is harmful or disruptive in any way, I will leave immediately." 

Naomi looks between you and Jungkook, and then she sighs, throwing her hands up in defeat. 

"Fine, but only for a little while. And you can't sleep in the main room. Take my office—the couch is a pull-out."

"Thank you, thank you, thank you!" You pull her into a hug that she returns with a loving exasperation. 

"If there's even a whiff of trouble, both of you are gone, understand?" 

"Yes, ma'am! I wouldn't expect anything less." 

You grab Jungkook’s hand, dragging him along behind you as you lead him through the shelter. You pass through some of the busier living areas, and it's as if everyone can’t help but stare at him. You can only assume that, despite his wings being hidden, he still emits some sort of otherworldly aura that draws people in. Plus, by human standards, you suppose he's quite attractive. 

Jungkook seems unbothered by the attention, too focused on his surroundings and curiously taking in every detail.

"All these people live here?" he asks, incredulous. "This place is quite small." 

"Shh! Lesson four: lower your voice when you're talking about other people. The last thing we need is for someone to overhear and think you're judging them." 

"Apologies," Jungkook replies, his voice dropping to a whisper. "But my previous comment was not meant to be judgmental. I’m just… surprised. I thought humans usually lived in family units, but everyone here doesn't seem to be related." 

I’m. Doesn’t. He’s already using contractions—you must either be a good teacher or he’s a quick learner.

"You're right," you agree, and as you glance around, your heart aches a little. "Not everyone is fortunate enough to have that. This place is for those who have lost their families or homes." 

"Lost their homes? Like in a fire?" 

"Sometimes. Or maybe they didn't have enough money to pay their taxes." 

"I don't understand. Are there not enough homes for everyone? Why do you need to pay for such a basic need?"

You pause, the innocence of his question hitting you surprisingly hard. Of course he wouldn't understand the complexities of human society, of money and social class, of poverty and wealth disparity. You didn't either; at least, not until you Fell and were forced to figure it out. 

"That is a complicated issue," you admit, running a hand through your hair. "And not all humans agree on how to solve it. Some people think everyone should have a home, regardless of whether or not they can pay for it. Others think that if you can't afford it, you don't deserve one."

He looks so confused that you would be tempted to laugh if the tone of the conversation wasn't so serious. "That doesn't seem fair. In heaven, everyone has a place."

"Yes, well, Earth isn't heaven." There's a bitterness to your words that you hadn't intended. "And why our Creator chooses to leave things like this is a mystery to me. I mean, why not use some of His power to help?"

"The ways of the Almighty are impossible for us to understand," Jungkook quietly replies. "And it's not for us to question."

You snort in response, crossing your arms over your chest. "Well, aren't you a dutiful little angel?" 

Jungkook frowns, clearly not understanding your sarcasm. You sigh and shake your head.

"I'm sorry, Jungkook. It's just hard to wrap my head around sometimes. It's why my so-called degradation process started in the first place. Look at them—" You gesture to the people huddled together around the small television in the corner of the room, others sharing a meal or helping to care for the younger children. "They're good people. Why do they deserve to suffer?" 

Silence lingers between you for a moment. When he responds, he doesn’t answer your question. “Their heavenly rewards shall be plentiful as long as they keep to their faith.” 

“Does that make all of this okay?" You scoff. "Why are they being tested like this? In fact, why do they even need to believe at all to be given a home in the celestial realm? If a person is good-hearted, why isn’t that enough?”

Jungkook looks away from you. "I don't like these questions."

“You don’t like them? Or you don’t like how uncomfortable they make you feel?” 

Before he can even bother replying, you let go of his hand and open the door to Naomi's office, hurrying inside, eager to get some space. It's small and cramped, filled with stacks of paper, an old wooden desk strewn with an old computer and various office supplies, and a well-worn couch wedged against the wall.

"It's not much," you say. "But it's home for now, I guess."

"Home," Jungkook repeats softly, eyes scanning the room. He zeroes in the billboard behind Naomi's desk, filled with photos of smiling people, letters from those that she has helped. A smile tugs at his lips. "It's nice."

"You say that now. Just wait until you're trying to sleep and a couch spring is digging into your back." 

"I don't actually need to sleep," he reminds you. 

You roll your eyes, crossing your arms over your chest. "Right, I forgot. At least we won't be fighting for the blanket."

"I can pretend to," Jungkook offers, a spark of amusement in his eyes. "The idea of laying next to you is not unwelcome." 

You blush, taken aback. "W-what… you…" You take a deep breath. "No, that won't be necessary. And lesson five: don't flirt with people unless you mean it." 

"What is 'flirt’?”

"Flirting," you explain, trying to keep your blush under control, "is when people say or do things that suggest they're attracted to each other."

"I see." He pauses for just a moment before asking, "And how do I know if I'm attracted to someone?"

You sigh exasperatedly. Who knew teaching an angel to be human could be so tiring? 

"It's… well, it's kind of hard to explain. Especially because, as an angel, you don't really feel, at least not until the degradation process is nearing its end. But basically, it's like you have an inexplicable urge to be around this person a lot. You think about them often, their happiness makes you happy, and you want to be closer to them, maybe even touch them or hold them. Some people also might feel their heart beat faster, or a fluttering in their stomach." 

As you speak, Jungkook’s eyes never leave yours. They gleam with curiosity and understanding, drinking in every word you say. He seems to be processing the concept, and then he suddenly smiles. "So, like how I feel about you." 

Caught off-guard, you blink at him, speechless for a moment. And then the panic seeps in. 

"No, Jungkook, that's not correct," you insist, your words tumbling out in haste and denial. "You can't… we can't… you're an angel. I'm—" Fallen, you want to say. Human, you need to say. But you don't. 

"Why not?" he asks simply, his gaze steady. 

"Because!" You scramble for an explanation, desperate to avoid the truth of your own feelings stirring within you. "Because angels aren't supposed to feel that way."

"But I am no longer a pure angel," Jungkook counters. "The degradation process has begun. We discussed this already."

"But that doesn't matter! The whole reason we are doing this is so you can learn the skills you need to figure out a way to stop Namsu from forcing anyone else to Fall. Once you do, you'll be able to stay in Heaven because withering isn't real." Before he can say anything else, you open the door. "I'm gonna grab my stuff from my bed. I'll… I'll be back in a second." 

You slam the door behind you, leaving Jungkook alone in the room. It's a struggle to keep your composure as you head towards your bed. All you can think of is his words, the nonchalance with which he said them. You can feel your traitorous heart yearning for him, but you can't let it sway you. Whether it was an accident or not, his betrayal led to your Fall. Led to you being human. And he's an angel. No matter what you feel or what he thinks he feels, nothing can happen between you now. 

As you gather your meager belongings, the man you spoke with earlier approaches you with a sympathetic expression. "You alright, dear? You didn't get evicted, did you? I'll give Naomi a piece of mind if that's the case." 

"No, no," you quickly reassure him with a forced smile. "My… my friend needs a place to stay for awhile, and there's a one body to one bed policy. Naomi was kind enough to let us use the couch in her office for a few days until we figure something else out."

"Your friend, hm?" His eyes twinkle mischievously. "That fellow you walked in with? Can't say I blame you. He's quite a looker."

"It's not like that," you blush, hurriedly stuffing the rest of your belongings into your bag. "Anyway, don't worry. You'll still see me around." 

The man grins and gives you a friendly pat on the shoulder. "I'm glad to hear it. This place would be much drearier without you."

You bid him goodbye with a wave and make your way back to Naomi's office, feeling like you're walking towards the edge of a cliff. As you open the door, you find Jungkook staring out the window. The streetlight spills in through the gap in the curtains, bathing him in a soft glow. He turns as you enter. 

"Gathered your belongings?" he asks, his voice calm as if the previous conversation never happened. For a moment, you feel robbed—does he not understand the gravity of what he said? But you suppose it's better this way. Easier, at least. 

"Yes," you respond, a bit more brusquely than intended, setting your bag down on the floor. He's still staring at you, and you flush under his gaze. "I'm just going to set up the couch. And stop staring at me so intently. Humans get nervous about stuff like that."

"Another lesson," he remarks. "Understood." Jungkook watches you for a moment longer, then turns back to the window without a word. 

You get to work, unfolding the couch and covering it with your bedding. The silence between you is thick; you can feel the tension radiating off of Jungkook despite his apparent calm. Your heart pounds in your ears as you busy yourself with smoothing out some wrinkles in the sheets, a futile distraction. 

With a deep breath, you break the silence. "Alright, I'm done." 

Jungkook turns to look, and his eyes scan the makeshift bed you've prepared. "You've made it look inviting." 

"Should be okay for a few nights," you reply curtly, avoiding his gaze. "I'm, uh, gonna go ready for bed. I know you don't sleep, but feel free to sit at her desk or something. Make yourself comfortable." 

You exit the room and head down the hallway to the bathroom, leaving Jungkook alone with his thoughts. You can’t shake off his confession and your own rush to deny him. The truth of your feelings, or rather the depth of them, is something you aren't ready to face.

After getting ready for bed, you hesitantly return to Naomi's office. The door creaks upon opening, and Jungkook turns from where he's seated at Naomi's desk, looking up at you with his intense gaze.

"Goodnight," you say softly, trying not to let your voice betray how uneasy you feel.

Jungkook nods. "Goodnight," he replies, and his voice is gentle, concerned. You feel a pang of guilt at the distance you've created between the two of you but say nothing more, falling into a fitful sleep.

Sometime during the night, Jungkook figured out how to work Naomi's dinosaur of a computer and discovered the wonderful thing that is the internet. When you wake, he flocks to your side like an excited child, eager to share everything he has learned about humans, their emotions, and their behavior.

"Slow down, Jungkook," you chuckle, holding up a hand to halt his barrage of words. "I can't absorb all of that at once."

"Oh," he says, blinking in surprise. "I forget that human minds process information more slowly. Should I take this as another lesson?"

You shrug, brushing a loose strand of hair behind your ear. "Sure, go for it."

Despite the tension last night and everything unsaid between the two of you, you find yourself falling into an easy rhythm with him. He's eager to learn and keen on understanding humanity—your humanity. Throughout the day, he continues his studies, glued to the computer screen as you complete your daily volunteering. He takes breaks every once in a while to come find you and ask questions.

"I've come across some terms that are perplexing," he says, leaning on the front desk as you catalog some information. "'Memes' and 'emojis' appear prominently in human interactions online, but I don’t really know what they are or how they’re used.”

You answer question after question until you realize you aren’t getting work done, so you have to come up with a plan B. Leading him back to Naomi’s office, you pull up Netflix on the computer. Jungkook watches the screen in fascination as you explain streaming and scroll through all the shows. 

"Let's try Friends," you say, clicking on the thumbnail. 

You leave him to watch as you finish up your tasks for the day, checking occasionally to see that he’s still engrossed in the show. Instead of constantly badgering you with questions, he writes them on a notepad you provided and waits until the end of the day to go over them with you. You answer each one as best you can, completely endeared by him. 

It's during one of the show's more depressing moments that he asks you about lying and betrayal, echoing the heavy undertones from the other day. His question takes you by surprise, his gaze focused intensely on your face as he waits for an answer.

"Lying is a tough one," you say, trying to keep your voice steady. "Sometimes it's out of fear or selfishness. Sometimes people lie because they're trying to protect themselves."

"And betrayal?" Jungkook asks, his voice unnaturally calm.

You sigh, looking down at your hands. "Betrayal… it's when someone breaks your trust. It hurts, Jungkook. It hurts a lot."

He watches you for several long moments before finally speaking again. "I see," he says softly. "And that's what you thought I did to you?"

You swallow hard, feeling the knot in your chest tighten. "Jungkook," you start, but falter, not knowing how to put your feelings into words. 

"I did not mean to betray you," Jungkook continues. "I realize that my actions may have led you to believe that I deceived you, but it was not my intention. I'm sorry."

"I know." You believe him completely, but the wound is still so fresh that you can’t bring yourself to fully trust him again. Not yet. "I know you didn't mean to, but an apology doesn't fix everything. Consider it another lesson—trust, once broken, isn't so easily mended." 

Jungkook plays with the skin around his nails, an anxious habit he seems to be developing the more human-like he becomes. After a moment, he says, "I understand. I will try harder."

"Try harder doing what?" 

"To understand you better. To understand all humans more, their emotions and their beliefs. Maybe understanding what trust really is will teach me how to earn it back and make up for my mistakes." He's so earnest, so genuine, it almost brings tears to your eyes. "I think I want this as much as I want Namsu to answer for his crimes, if not more. And maybe that makes little sense, but maybe… maybe that's quite human of me." 

"And maybe that's progress," you say softly, looking at Jungkook with newfound hope. 

Your new normal is spending your days with your time split between performing your volunteering duties and teaching Jungkook all about human life. 

Christmas is only a week away now, and everyone around you seems to be buzzing with excitement. At this point, even the inside of the shelter has been decorated. The hallways are lined with lights and garlands, and the common areas even have a few trees set up with donated presents underneath. And, as much as you have dreaded the holiday, you can't deny that watching Jungkook experience it for the first time makes you hate it a little less.

Despite the initial stiffness that comes with being an angel unfamiliar with human life, he has quickly adapted to life at the shelter. He's kind and patient, and he’s always eager to help out where he can. The children, in particular, have taken a liking to him. He's become their favorite storyteller and always has the kids hanging onto his every word. 

One afternoon, you find him sitting with them, singing a song in an ancient celestial language. Everyone will assume it’s some gibberish language he’s made up for one of his stories, but it reminds you of home. His voice is beautiful, melodic and soothing, with a honeyed quality to it that would make anyone stop and listen. 

You stand in the doorway and watch, a smile tugging at your lips. He catches your eye and winks, the action so human and unexpected that it startles a laugh out of you. The children turn to see what's so funny, but you just shake your head, telling them to continue listening.

He comes to you when he finishes, smiling brightly. "Did you enjoy the song as well?" 

"I did," you reply truthfully, your heart fluttering at his attention. The feelings you have been trying to resist are becoming increasingly persistent the more time you spend with him. 

"That's good to hear.”

Suddenly, the kids clamor over to you both, giggling and pointing at something above you. You look up, and all the color drains from your face. Mistletoe. Who the hell put it here?

Jungkook looks between you and the mistletoe, obviously confused. “Why are you angry with that plant? It’s quite beautiful.”

“It’s a tradition, of sorts.” You say the word with disdain. “When a couple—not that we are one—walks under the mistletoe, they’re supposed to kiss.”

“Kiss?”

“We don’t have to, it’s stupid—” 

“No, let’s do it. It's a part of the human experience, right? Let's consider it another lesson."

Heat rushes to your face, and you stutter incoherently, looking around the room for a way to escape. But the children are watching expectantly, their eyes wide and eager. You swallow hard, your heart pounding in your chest.

"Alright… close your eyes," you tell him.

He listens obediently, his eyes fluttering closed. You had never noticed just how long and pretty his eyelashes were until now. Bracing yourself, you take a deep breath and lean in, placing a soft kiss on his cheek. When you pull back, you're greeted with a perplexed expression as he opens his eyes.

"That was nice," he says after a brief pause. "But that’s really what a kiss is? In the show, they did it a bit more like—"

He leans in to demonstrate what he means, his lips brushing against yours. It's soft and a bit awkward at first, but he quickly gets the hang of it, pulling you closer. Against your better judgment, you let him, allowing yourself to get lost in the moment. His lips are softer than you would have expected. His fingers lightly squeeze your waist, sending a jolt of electricity through your body, and it's not until you hear some of the children giggling that you are reminded you have an audience.

You quickly pull away, breathless and flushed with embarrassment. Jungkook, however, is grinning from ear to ear. "That," he says. "That is how they did it."  

"Again! Again!" one of the kids shouts, pulling at your arm. 

Jungkook chuckles at his enthusiasm. "I think we should get back to our story," he says, ruffling the boy’s hair lovingly. Then, turning back to you, he murmurs, "Thank you. For the lesson." 

You can barely speak coherently, but you manage to squeak out a small “you’re welcome” before rushing out of the room. How on Earth are you supposed to get your tasks done now? It's impossible to focus, your mind running in circles over his touch, the feel of his lips against yours.

When you return to Naomi’s office later that night, you’re relieved to see that Jungkook isn't there yet. You take a moment to sit on the edge of the bed and process your thoughts, your fingers tracing absentmindedly over your lips. A shiver passes through your body, a heat blooming in the pit of your stomach. You drop your hand, clenching it into a fist to stop the trembling.

"Nervous?" a voice asks, startling you out of your thoughts. Jungkook is standing in the doorway, watching you with an unreadable expression.

"I… no," you say. 

"Don't lie," he chides gently, sitting next to you on the bed. “I can tell when you do that now, you know.” He keeps to a respectful distance, but he turns his gaze to you. “I think I'm starting to really understand this human thing. Emotions and all that.”

"Is that so?" 

"Yes. They can be painful sometimes but also quite beautiful." 

You watch as he turns his gaze back towards the room, and silence stretches between you again. However, it’s different now from how it used to be; it's not awkward or unsettling, but comfortable. His vulnerability makes you want to be honest, to admit to the way you feel.  

Just as you’re about to say something, he continues, "But now it's time for me to learn about something else. I need to start strategizing for the coming confrontation."

"Right, Namsu," you say. You almost forgot about Jungkook’s original intentions. You clap your hands and get up, heading to the computer. "Alright. Let's research."

With Jungkook sufficiently prepared, the time soon comes for him to return to the celestial realm. However, he insists on leaving at night, so he can spend the day with you. He referred to it as "a date," and you practically tripped over your own feet, much to his enjoyment. He has certainly developed a penchant for teasing you.

You decide to take him into the heart of the city, so he can observe people in their natural element. There seem to be even more decorations than you remember, and people are bustling about to finish their last-minute shopping. However, you find yourself handling the chaos a lot better with Jungkook by your side. 

He hasn't let go of your hand since you stepped out of the shelter, his thumb lightly rubbing circles over your knuckles. Every once in a while, he squeezes it lightly, a silent assurance that he’s there. Whether he notices your nerves and is doing it to comfort you or is doing it because he wants to, you're grateful for it.

His doe eyes dart this way and that, eagerly drinking in the scenery. You try to explain what everything is—the office buildings, luxury apartments, and tiny shops buried in alleyways—but he's more interested in the people. It isn't until you stop in front of a Hindu temple that his attention is finally captured by a building. He cocks his head to the side, eyes wide in wonder as he takes in the sight of it. The temple is a beautiful structure, with elaborate carvings and statues lining its walls. 

"What is this place?" he asks, his voice full of awe.

"It's a place of worship for those that practice Hinduism," you explain.

His eyes sparkle with interest as he takes a step closer to the building. "Can we go inside?"

You glance at him, surprised by his request. But something in his earnest gaze breaks down your hesitation. "Sure," you say softly, leading him inside.

The inside of the temple is even more impressive than the outside. There are vibrant murals depicting different gods and an intoxicating scent of incense that fills the air. You gesture to the bell at the entrance. “Would you like to ring it?”

“What’s it for?” he asks, picking it up gently. 

“It’s supposed to be a way to announce your arrival to the deities.” 

Jungkook shakes it, the twinkling of the bell echoing in the large room. “Pretty,” he remarks as he places it back where it belongs.

He then follows your lead as you move towards the main shrine, your heart pounding in your chest as you realize what you're about to do. An angel of the Christian God at the altar of a different one? You're almost afraid you'll be struck down where you stand. 

He takes in the offerings with a small smile. "It's all quite beautiful," he remarks. "It's a shame that their gods aren't real." 

You know Jungkook means no harm and that it is what he has been conditioned to think for thousands of years, but you still bristle at his easy dismissal of their beliefs. “We’re real. Our God is real. Who’s to say the gods of their religion are not?”

"There is one God. That is what we were taught."

"Yes, it is. But we were also led to believe the withering was real. Just because it is said does not mean that it is true.”

Jungkook is silent for a moment, eyes still fixed on the offerings. Then he turns to you. "You truly believe that?" 

"I don't know," you confess, feeling a little exposed. “I don't know what I believe anymore. I'm just… questioning. It's complicated." 

"You have given me a lot to think about," he admits, his tone quiet. “For all I know, you might be right. I shouldn't have dismissed their beliefs so easily. I apologize.”

You stare at him in surprise; you hadn't expected him to back down so easily. "It's okay," you reassure him. "I'd say being open-minded is another lesson, but unfortunately, not all humans are."

You continue to walk around the city, introducing Jungkook to as many things as possible. Everything he does fills you with affection, whether it be him trying hot dogs from a street vendor and declaring them divine, or joining some kids who were playing soccer in a park. At one point, he kicks the ball so hard that it lands in a tree branch, and you can’t help but laugh as he clumsily climbs up to retrieve it.

When night falls, you end up at the pier, watching the shimmering water beneath the stars. Jungkook is oddly quiet, looking out at the horizon with a distant expression. The silence isn't uncomfortable, but it does leave you feeling a little uneasy. You reach for his hand, and he startles slightly before turning to look at you. 

"Penny for your thoughts?" you ask.

He smiles slightly. “I’m guessing that’s some sort of human expression, and you’re not actually going to give me a penny.”

“You would be correct.”

“I’m thinking about a lot of things.” He exhales as if letting out a breath he has been holding. "You, for one. But I'm always thinking of you so that much isn't a surprise." You blush and swat at his arm. "But I’m also thinking about my beliefs."

"What about them?"

He takes a moment to get his thoughts in order, grabbing your hand more tightly as if you're his anchor in a stormy sea. He answers your question with another. "What if everything we have been taught is wrong? I mean, we have never spoken with the Almighty directly. Angels, apostles, they can all take His words and twist them for their own purposes. We've seen it in action with Namsu, and with how the Bible has been changed to promote hatred." 

You're taken aback by his frankness, the depth of his vulnerability. You have no answers for him, but you can relate to him and offer what little understanding you have come to have.

"So maybe it is wrong, and things have gotten taken out of context or changed as the years have gone on. Like you said, we cannot talk to Him, so we can’t ask for the truth. Or, maybe it is all part of a bigger plan, and unwavering faith is the answer.” You pause, steeling your resolve, before continuing, “But it isn’t for me. I can’t live that way. But how you decide to live is your choice. Who you are is your choice. I cannot decide that for you, and neither can He.” 

He frowns. "I don't know how to make that choice. Who even am I? What am I without my purpose? Without Him?"

"Perhaps we're not defined by a single purpose we've been given," you answer quietly. "Maybe we're more than that."

"More than our purpose?" 

"Yeah," you say, a soft smile tugging at your lips. "Maybe we don't need a purpose. Maybe it's okay to just exist." 

Jungkook’s gaze turns thoughtful, considering your words as if they are the most precious thing in the world. "Just exist," he repeats, his voice barely above a whisper. After a moment, he stands up, looking at you with a newfound fire blazing in his eyes. "I need to return. I will talk to some of my confidants, gather information, and then confront Namsu." 

You knew it was coming, but your stomach still drops. You're scared for him, for what will happen when he leaves. But you see the determination in his eyes, the steel in his gaze. You know better than to try and stop him now.

"You'll be careful, right?" you ask, your voice shaking slightly.

"I will."

He pulls you up and envelops you in his arms. His embrace is comforting, protective, and for a brief moment, it makes you forget about all your worries.

"Promise me," you whisper into his chest. 

"I promise," he says, his hands rubbing soothing circles on your back. He pulls away after a moment, but not before brushing his lips against your temple. "I will return. For you."

His words weigh heavy in the air as he pulls away fully, breaking the physical contact between you two. His gaze lingers on you for another moment before he turns away and disappears into the night. You're left standing on the pier alone, the cold wind making you shiver. Wrapping your arms around yourself, you head back to Lost Star, where you have nothing to do but wait.

It’s Christmas Eve before you know it. The holiday you have been dreading feels even worse with Jungkook’s absence, and frankly, you don’t know how to handle it. You plaster a smile on your face for the sake of the children, playing along with their excitement over what presents they are going to get and stories of Santa Claus. But every time someone brings Jungkook up, wondering where he is, you feel tempted to run to Naomi’s office and hide.

Speaking of Naomi, she has been keeping a close watch over you, mothering you as per usual. You know she can tell that something has happened. Once you step away from the festivities to do some of your work, she pulls you aside.

“Honey, what’s going on? These days you seem so out of it; you’re just flitting around room to room, acting like a ghost.” When you don’t answer, she frowns. “It’s because of that boy, isn’t it?”

"He… he needed to go home. He had some things he needed to figure out," you manage to say. It's not a lie, just an oversimplification of the truth.

She wraps an arm around you. "He's going to come back. I saw the way he looked at you, and you at him. And if he doesn't, well, screw him."

"Naomi!" 

"Sorry, sorry. He was sweet and all, but you're my girl. I'll always have your back." Naomi declares, patting you on the back. 

You accept her comfort, fighting back your tears. If only she knew your fear didn’t revolve around him coming back—of course, part of you is scared that something will happen to him, but the rational part of your brain, the part that knows his strength, has no doubts he'll be alright. In actuality, your biggest fear is that he won't be able to stay with you, and you’ll have to go through the pain of losing him all over again.

He's an angel. You're human. There's no future there. Your traitorous heart made you fall harder and harder for him without sparing that a moment's thought, and now you have to will yourself to accept that you'll always be in love with someone you cannot have.

The rest of the day passes in a blur, nothing but forced cheer and mindless chatter. Naomi sticks by your side as much as she can, making sure to redirect everyone who asks you questions about Jungkook. You're grateful for her presence, her constant support, and now more than ever, you realize how lucky you truly are to have her in your life.

As soon as everyone is in bed and your tasks for the day are done, you seek out the solitude of the pier once again. You've been coming here daily since he left. A sentimental thing, mostly, since it was the last place you saw him. But you also hope each night will be the night he returns.

The wind is strong tonight, the kind that chills you down to your bones, and the stars are hidden behind the clouds. You wrap your scarf more tightly around yourself, gazing aimlessly at the turbulent water. Suddenly, there's a bright light and a shrill noise. You aren't scared this time, and it's not nearly as overwhelming as it was. He must have tempered it somehow, made it less painful for you.

The light fades, leaving behind a figure that is unmistakably Jungkook. The sight of him fills you with such relief and happiness that you rush forward, throwing your arms around him. He envelops you in his arms, his wings folding around you, a sigh of contentment escaping his lips as he buries his face in your hair.

"I missed you very much," he says, breathing deeply.

"I missed you too," you whisper, tears prickling at your eyes. "I knew you'd come back."

"I said I would, didn't I?" he teases, pulling away just enough to look at you. "And I have news."

"What happened?" 

You stay locked in his embrace as he speaks, bringing one of your hands to his face to stroke his cheek, to follow the line of his jaw with your fingers. He lets you, as eager to feel your touch as you are to feel his.

"I confronted Namsu," he begins. "But I wasn't alone. There were other angels who had started the 'degradation' process, those who were too fearful of retribution to say anything. I told them everything, and we confronted the other Thrones about Namsu and everything he had done. They didn’t approve of his actions, and they punished him for it." 

"Really?" You ask, eyes wide with surprise. "Just like that? They believed you?"

A soft laugh bubbles up from him. "It wasn't quite that simple. There was plenty of arguing, plenty of disbelief. I’d never seen anything like it. But in the end, Namsu was banished from the celestial realm."

Relief washes over you at his words, the tension you hadn't even realized you were carrying leaving your body. "That's incredible.” 

Jungkook shrugs slightly, but there’s an unmistakable look of pride in his eyes. "I’m just glad he has gotten what he deserves. Now you have justice." He places a gentle kiss on your forehead.

"And what about the others? The ones who have started to degrade?" Your heart clenches at the thought of them being punished for something beyond their control.

"They're safe," Jungkook assures you quickly. "The Thrones have promised to take care of it all. They're going to convene with Him, to see if the Heavenly teachings can be altered. Things are changing up there; I think it's all going to be alright." 

You're overwhelmed with emotion, both relief and dread tugging at you simultaneously. It is good to know that things will be changing, but what is done to you has been done. And now, Jungkook has no reason to stay with you. You take a step back from him. 

"What about you?" you ask quietly, barely daring to meet his gaze.

"What about me?" 

"You have no reason to stay anymore. You can return to your normal duties. You did what was right, and everything is fixed."

"I did what was right, yes, and I'm sure things will be much better from now on," Jungkook agrees. But he steps forward, taking your hands in his and looking deep into your eyes. "But now, I need to do what's right for me." 

"What do you mean?"

"Oh, my star." Your heart stutters at the endearment. "I'm not going anywhere. I want to be with you."

"But… you can only do that if you're—"

"Human, yes," he interrupts. 

"Jungkook! You can't! You can't Fall for me," you half-shout, half-whisper. "You're a good angel, you—"

"Y/N." The force behind his voice stops you. "Even before you showed me the beauty of being human, before I knew how to feel, before I even knew what love was, I would have done anything for you.” His confession takes your breath away, and you wobble on your feet, moving a few steps back from him in your shock. “If you had simply asked it of me, I would have stood with you in the fires of hell for all eternity and still been grateful for each moment spent at your side." 

The tears you were holding back begin to fall. "You would have?" 

“I would. I can. I will.” He moves closer to you with each beat between words until he stands directly in front of you, only a hair's breadth away. Gently, hesitantly—as if for the first time—he takes your hand and presses it to his chest right above where a human heart would be. “Just say the words, and I will fall for you. I will forsake myself and turn my back on Heaven. The pain of losing my wings will be inconsequential compared to the pain of having to be without you.”

"W-what words?"

He smiles, eyes crinkling at the edges. "You know what I want to hear. Be honest. Even better, be selfish, like a human. Tell me what you really want, and I will oblige."

You hesitate. You have been fighting your feelings this entire time, so sure of the fact that Jungkook would choose to continue his life as an angel. You never wanted him to Fall for you, to be torn away from the life he has always known the way you were. But he deserves to make the choice himself. If he wants your honesty, you will give it to him. 

"Speak, Y/N," Jungkook urges, his gaze never leaving yours.

"I want…" You begin slowly, your voice barely a whisper. "I want you. I want you to stay with me." He grins, relief clear in his eyes. "Then I will."

"But you shouldn't have to Fall!" 

"Fall or not, it won't change anything," he assures you. "I chose this path before even knowing there was a choice. I chose you from the second we were created.”

"Even if that means giving up everything?" you ask.

Jungkook’s expression softens. He reaches up and tucks a wayward lock of hair behind your ear. "Does it seem like I’m giving up everything?" he muses aloud, his eyes never leaving yours. "Because from where I stand, it seems like I’m gaining everything.”

"Smooth-talker,” you laugh, a tear slipping down your cheek. He brushes it off with his thumb, his gaze softening even further.

For a moment, you just stand there, looking at each other. It's quiet except for your breathing and the sound of waves crashing against the pier. You have been so afraid of asking him to make this choice, and yet he seems so certain about it, as if it was what he wanted all along.

"Are you sure about this?" you ask him one more time, seeking reassurance. "Once done, there's no going back."

His answer is immediate, "I've never been more sure about anything in my life."

"This will change everything," you say again.

"I know," he replies simply. 

"Come find me when it's over," you whisper, placing a gentle kiss to his lips. "I'll be at the shelter." 

As you go to leave, you can't help but glance back over your shoulder at Jungkook, taking in the appearance of him and his wings one last time. He's still standing there, watching you go with love evident in his gaze. It quells some of your worries. And then you blink, and he’s gone.

The hours that creep by feel like days. You busy yourself with meaningless tasks, cleaning the office, flipping through an old book left on the table, scrolling TikTok. None of it does anything to dull your anxiety, and you're weighing the pros and cons of tearing your hair out before you finally hear a knock on the door. You shoot up to your feet, heart pounding in your chest. Slowly, you open the door, and there he stands. "I'm here," he says simply. "As I promised."

You pull him into a hug once again, burying your head into his chest. You can hear the beat of his human heart and, unable to stop yourself, you burst into tears. You know the pain he just went through, can remember experiencing it yourself like it was yesterday, and you can hardly believe he went through something so awful to be with you. 

"I'm sorry," you whisper, tightening your hold on him. "I'm so sorry."

"Don't be," he coos, gently stroking your hair. "This was my choice."

You swallow hard and pull back from him so you can look into his eyes, searching for any sign of regret. You find none.

"Are you okay?" You ask anyway, your heart aching at the thought of what he has given up.

"I am," he assures, his voice full of conviction. He leans down, pressing a soft kiss against your lips, and when he pulls away, he's smiling. "I wondered if doing that would feel different now that I'm fully human." 

"And does it?" you ask, smiling back up at him.

"Yes," he admits, tracing an invisible line down your cheek, your neck, your collarbone. You shiver at his touch. "It feels more real. Stronger somehow. It's like you're the break of dawn after a long night." 

Your breath catches in your throat. "Being human certainly hasn't changed the fact that you have a way with words." 

"Only when it comes to you," he replies, his fingers never ceasing their journey across your skin. They make their way back to your waist, where he plays with the hem of your shirt. "There's one lesson we never covered, you know." 

"A-and what would that be?" you squeak as his fingers caress the smooth skin of your stomach.

His voice drops lower, and he tugs you closer by your belt loops. "Human intimacy."

You flush at his audacity but don't pull away. "And what would be the best way for me to teach you about that?" 

"Hm…" He leans down so that his lips hover over yours, and you can feel his warm breath with each word he speaks. "I think I would respond well to some hands-on practice."

Your heartbeat thunders in your ears as his lips press against yours in a slow, searing kiss that turns your knees to jelly. He takes his time exploring your mouth, his lips moving delicately against yours. His hands are warm on your skin, trailing up and down your back as he pulls you closer. 

"Then I suppose we should get started," you manage to whisper when you finally break apart, breathless.

Jungkook moves into the room, closing the door behind him, and sits down on the edge of the pull-out bed. He stares up at you, his once-innocent doe eyes now dark and hooded with desire. You float towards him as if being pulled by a magnet, and he pulls you down so that you’re straddling his lap. Your hands rest on his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat under your touch. 

"I think I should warn you," he says, hands sliding down to rest right above the curve of your ass, "I might be a slow learner."

You roll your eyes, a short, playful chuckle escaping from your lips. "I think I can handle that."

The room fills with an easy silence as you continue to explore each other, experiencing sensations new for the both of you. His hands trace every curve and dip of your body, his touch curious yet surprisingly confident. Your fingers trace the lines of his face, his jaw, his chest, and then find their way under his shirt to the newly-formed scars on his back. They are rough against your fingertips, a stark contrast to the rest of his smooth skin. 

"You aren't in pain?” 

“No,” he assures you, his hands sliding to a similar position on your own back. "Were you for long after?"

"No, but I'm still worried," you smile sheepishly.

He laughs and kisses your nose. "Don't be. Don't feel like you have to be gentle with me. I won't break." 

You laugh in return, your eyes twinkling with delight and a touch of mischief. "Is that a challenge, Jungkook?" 

He hums in response, his gaze never leaving yours. "Maybe." 

His teasing reply only spurs you on. Rising to the bait, you lean in to kiss him, this time with a boldness that leaves him momentarily stunned. But he recovers quickly, matching your fervor and deepening the kiss. Your hands weave into his hair, pulling him closer, and his hips jut up against you almost involuntarily. You moan at the sensation, and he stills.

"What was that?" he asks.

"That," you breathe out, "is what human intimacy sounds like." 

"I want to hear it again." 

His lips find yours again and this time it's deep and demanding, all teeth and tongue and the promise of what’s to come. His hands grab your waist, forcing you to grind down against him as he once again lifts his hips up to meet your core. Another moan escapes your lips, the sound quickly swallowed by his hungry mouth. He tugs at the hem of your shirt, his fingertips skimming against the skin of your lower back. Eagerly, you lift your arms, and he pulls it off over your head.

"Jungkook…" you whimper, clutching at his shoulders. He responds by nuzzling into your neck, his hot breath making you shiver with pleasure. 

"You're so beautiful," he murmurs against the curve of your neck, his lips tracing the column of your throat, down to your chest. 

He places a gentle kiss above each breast before descending lower still, sucking one into his mouth. His lips and tongue move expertly, drawing gasps from you as your nerves ignite with pleasure. His hands are firm on your waist, holding you securely against him as he devotes himself entirely to exploring the new terrain, and you grind against him wantonly. You can feel that your panties are soaked with the proof of your desire. 

"Jungkook," you say again, your hands tangling in his hair, pulling him closer. His name is a plea, a prayer. "I need more."

He pulls back, his lips swollen from his ministrations. "And so I'll give it to you." 

You eagerly crawl off of him, shimmying out of your jeans, before settling with your back against the pillows. You grab at the air, beckoning him closer. He does the same, now only in his boxers, and slots himself on top of you, his bare skin against yours intensifying the burning desire coursing through your veins. His hard length presses against your core, and you whine.

"I don't know what I'm doing," he admits in a low voice, his hot breath fanning against your face as his eyes search yours for assurance.

You reach up, caressing his cheek. "It's okay," you soothe him, your hands then trailing down his back to rest on his hips, encouraging him closer. "We'll figure it out together."

His lips find your neck as his hands explore every inch of you, his rough fingers exploring the softness of your flesh. He slides one down over your stomach and lower still, feather-light touches teasing you until you're gasping beneath him. His fingers trace the edge of your panties before sliding the fabric down. You lift your hips, aiding him in removing the last barrier between you. He tosses them aside before returning his attention to you, his fingers skimming along your trembling thighs. His fingers move gradually, inching steadily upward until he's touching you where you're most sensitive. You let out a soft gasp, gripping the sheets.

"Is this okay?" he asks. You nod eagerly, unable to get the words out, and he chuckles, placing a gentle kiss at the base of your throat. "Good."

Always the over-achiever, he slides down your body until his face is level with your core, focusing intently on his work. His fingers move with a slow, calculated rhythm that quickly has you dripping for him. Eventually, he slips one of his fingers inside of you. Your breath hitches, your hands clutching at his shoulders for support.

"Am I doing this right?" he asks, uncertainty creeping into his voice as he looks up at you from between your thighs. 

"You must be," you gasp out, encouraging him with a roll of your hips. "Don't stop."

Grinning, he adds a second finger, working you open until you're panting and squirming beneath him. Your back arches off the bed as his fingers work their magic, curling in just the right way that has you seeing stars. Praise tumbles from your lips, but you're sure that it just sounds like nonsense, your thoughts too muddled to form coherent words. 

"You're so wet," he murmurs in a low, gravelly voice that only adds fuel to your desire. 

Without warning, he lowers his mouth to your core, his lips and tongue joining his exploring fingers. The sensation is electric; your breath hitches, and an animalistic moan escapes you. He takes it as a sign of encouragement, doubling his efforts. Your fingers find their way to his hair, threading into the dark strands, seeking purchase. You can't help but pull, and he moans against you, the vibrations only furthering your pleasure. 

"Jungkook," you warn, "I'm—" 

A coil of white heat tightens within you before snapping. His name slips from your lips as you climax, sparks dancing behind your eyelids as he continues to pleasure you, eagerly lapping up your release. He doesn't stop, not until you physically pull him away from you, body shaking with overstimulation. He climbs back up your body, his lips finding yours in a gentle kiss. You can taste yourself on his lips.

"You okay?" he asks, his voice barely above a whisper. 

His pupils are blown out with desire, his hair slicked back with sweat, and he's so attractive that just the sight of him has you clenching your thighs together. 

You nod, cupping his face in your hands. "More than okay," you assure him. "That was amazing. Now," you slide your fingers down his chest, sliding over the waistband of his boxers. "Let's see what we can do about you."

You hook your thumbs around the fabric and pull them downwards, and he does the rest of the work, kicking them off. You reach down, your fingers tentatively wrapping around his cock. He gasps, his head falling forward against your chest as you begin to stroke him with a slow, measured rhythm. 

He nearly whines, his grip tightening on your hips. "That feels… I can't…" His words dissolve into soft, broken moans as you continue to work him over.

Suddenly overtaken with need, you stop, pulling him in for another searing kiss. "I need you inside of me, Jungkook," you gasp against his lips, "Please." 

Your hand guides him back to your core, and his breath hitches. “Are you ready?”

Nodding, you lift your hips to meet him. He pushes into you carefully, slowly, each inch an intense sensation for both of you. Your body clenches around him as if welcoming him home, a strangled moan escaping your lips. One of his hands clasps yours, bringing it to rest on the side of your head while he buries his face in the crook of your neck, his heavy breaths fanning your skin. He's shaking against you, and you feel just as overwhelmed. 

You squeeze the hand that's holding yours, urging him on. "You're okay," you whisper, "I'm okay. Move."

He nods, pulling out almost all the way before thrusting back inside of you. Your body jolts at the sensation, gasping his name over and over. 

"You feel incredible," he breathes out, the statement more for himself than for you. “So perfect.” Your fingers thread through his hair once more, pulling him down to meet your lips.

His hips set a steady rhythm, filling the room with soft sounds of skin on skin and heavy panting. He lets out a low groan as he adjusts his angle, hitting a spot inside of you that has you crying out and grabbing at him wherever you can reach. You wrap your legs around his waist, throwing your head back against the pillows.

"That's it," you whine, "Right there. It feels so good—" 

Your words cut off into a choked moan as he thrusts into you at that exact spot again and again, his movements becoming more erratic. He's close—you can tell by the way his body tenses and how he gasps desperately into your mouth. 

"I'm… I'm—" he stammers out, breath hitching between each word.

"I know," you gasp out, meeting him thrust for thrust. "Me too." 

You pull him as close as possible, holding him to you as you both chase your release. Your eyes squeeze shut, and your nails dig into his skin as a wave of pleasure crashes over you, even more intense than the last. You moan his name as you come, shuddering beneath him. He moans into your neck as he follows you over the edge, his hips bucking uncontrollably as he buries himself deep inside you. 

He collapses on top of you, burying his face in the crook of your neck, his heavy breathing tickling your skin. He stays there, nestled inside of you, his heart pounding against your chest, matching the rapid rhythm of your own. You feel dizzy, your senses overwhelmed by him—his scent, his taste, the feel of him on top of you and within you. You caress his back, slowly tracing the contours of his scars with gentle strokes, the action soothing for both of you. 

Eventually, he shifts, carefully pulling himself out of you and collapsing onto his back next to you. His hand searches blindly for yours, lacing your fingers together once he finds it. He brings your joined hands up to his lips and places a soft kiss on your knuckles.

"Is… are you…" He lifts his head to meet your eyes, unable to form words. 

"I'm more than okay," you assure him softly, brushing a stray lock of hair off his forehead.

"Good," he whispers, a contented sigh escaping him. 

His eyes roam over your face once more before closing, his grip on your hand tightening ever so slightly. Together, you lay there under the sheets, and the silence goes on for so long that you almost think he fell asleep. 

Then suddenly, you hear him say, voice barely above a whisper, "I love you." You look over to see him staring up at you with adoration in his gaze and a soft smile on his lips. "I know I don't have to say it since surely there can be no doubt that everything I have done for you is out of love. But I want to say it anyway. I want to continue saying it for the rest of my life. I have loved you since before I even had the capacity to feel it, and I will continue to love you until time ceases to exist."

His confession leaves you breathless, and you can do little but turn on your side, grab his face, and place a gentle kiss on his lips. Tears prick at the corner of your eyes, threatening to spill down your cheeks.

"I love you too, Jungkook," you whisper against his lips, "So very, very much." 

He lets out an audible sigh of relief as if he had been holding his breath, waiting for your response. His free hand reaches out to caress your cheek, wiping away a tear that had managed to escape. "I knew you would say so, but I'm happy to hear it all the same."

The two of you get ready for bed, and, for the first time since commandeering Naomi’s office, you fall asleep together in each other's arms.

The day you have been dreading has arrived—Christmas. Despite your initial hatred, however, you find yourself actually participating in the festivities around the shelter. Just like as many others do, you aren't going to consider it a holy day. You're going to use it as an excuse to be happy and spend time with your loved ones. 

You join the group of children who sit by the pile of gifts, their excitement palpable as they eagerly wait for Naomi to declare it time to open them. Small hands tug at Jungkook’s sleeve, pulling him down to their level as they bombard him with questions about where he's been. He settles down amongst them, answering their questions as honestly as he can. His eyes meet yours over the sea of eager faces, and he stretches out a hand towards you, inviting you to join him. You sit right on his lap, making some of the kids giggle.

"Alright, everyone, it's time!" Naomi's voice echoes through the shelter, immediately quieting the children down. 

As each name is called out and the kids scramble to collect their gifts, you can't help but smile. The pure delight on their faces is infectious. Noticing your happiness, Jungkook pulls you back so that you’re leaning against his chest, his arms wrapping around your waist. 

He places a gentle kiss on your neck, murmuring, "You seem happy."

"I am," you say, placing your hands over his. "The holidays aren't so bad with you around."

"I'm glad." He turns your head so he can place a quick kiss on your lips, one that is light and soft and sweet, full of love. "Merry Christmas."

"Merry Christmas, Jungkook," you echo, smiling brightly. 

Later, Naomi corners the two of you, pulling you aside. "I've been thinking about what to give you," she says. "I—"

"Naomi, you don't have to give me anything!"

"Don't interrupt me," she scolds, but there's no bite behind it. "Like I was saying, I was thinking it over, and I realized that the best gift I could offer is not anything material. From tomorrow on, you will officially be a supervisor. A paid supervisor." 

Your eyes widen in surprise, and you glance at Jungkook, who is beaming at you with pride. You turn back to Naomi, stuttering out a response.

"B-but Naomi, I couldn't possibly—"

"Yes, you can," she interrupts, her tone firm. "From the day you arrived here, you have been working as hard as any of us. You deserve this." Before you can argue any further, she thrusts a small envelope into your hands. "Consider it an early Christmas gift and your first paycheck. And my office? It's yours."

"Thank you, Naomi," you manage, your voice choked with emotion. You pull her into a hug, hoping it can express everything you don't know how to say. 

She pats your back, chuckling. "If anything, it's an excuse for me to take some time off. I'm getting old and need to start sharing the burden. Don't expect it to be a walk in the park!"

You pull away, wiping a stray tear from your eye. "Of course not. I'm ready to be worked to the bone, ma'am." 

"That's what I like to hear," she comments, her voice carrying an undertone of pride. She turns to Jungkook, her gaze soft but words sharp. "Take care of her, will you?"

"Always," he replies without a moment's hesitation, which earns him a small nod from Naomi.

Eventually, the celebrations wind down and people start to retreat to their beds until only you and Jungkook remain. Instead of doing the same, you decide to return to the pier and watch the water for a bit, not ready for the day to end. The two of you walk in comfortable silence, hands linked tightly as if promising not to let go. 

Sitting at the edge of the pier, Jungkook wraps an arm around your shoulder, pulling you closer to him. His body heat seeps into your skin, fighting away the cold, and you rest your head on his chest, letting his strong, steady heartbeat lull you into contentment. 

"Who would've thought we would end up here?" you reflect, staring out at the ocean. 

Jungkook laughs softly, his chest rumbling beneath your ear. "I don't think either of us could have predicted this."

"I never thought I would be happy that any of this happened, but I am. Are you?"

His gaze softens as he takes in the sight of you. "More than I could possibly put into words," he admits. 

"Will you miss it, though? Heaven?"

"I thought I would," he says, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear. "But Earth has its own kind of heaven. You're here. Naomi is here. The children are here. I have so much more yet to discover, to experience." His gaze returns to you, eyes soft and full of love. "How could I miss anything when I have all of this?”

Your heart swells at his words, his declaration warming you like nothing else could. You reach up to cup his face, your fingers lightly brushing his lips. His eyes flutter shut for a moment at your touch before opening again to hold your gaze.

"You're right," you whisper, your voice barely carrying over the sound of the waves. "This is our heaven. Here, with each other. And who knows, maybe we'll end up back there someday."

"You think?" Jungkook asks, raising an eyebrow. "I must say, I'm a little surprised hearing that from you. I didn't think you had faith anymore or wanted it for that matter."

You shrug. "Honestly, I don't know. I don't have my original beliefs anymore, that's for sure, but I don't resent it all like I once did, either. I think I've just found a new kind of faith. A faith in myself, in people, in goodness, and in love. There are so many different kinds of religions out there, and at their core, they're all about trying to understand the world around us, trying to find ways to cope and move forward. I think that's what I'm doing now, in my own way."

"That's beautiful," Jungkook says, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. "Somehow both simple and complex. Just like life itself, I suppose."

"And what about you, Jungkook?” you ask, pecking him on the lips. How will you move forward?"

"Honestly, I'm not sure, either. But I think I'm happy to find out, as long as it's with you." 

You hold each other close, each hoping your touch can express what no words could possibly convey. Love. Gratitude. Hope. The promise of a shared journey. What more could you possibly ask for?

TAGLIST: @yessa-vie

#jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x reader #jungkook angst #jungkook fluff #jungkook smut #jeon jungkook angst #jeon jungkook fluff #jeon jungkook smut #jungkook imagines #jungkook scenarios #bts imagines #bts scenarios #bts smut #bts angst #bts fluff #bts au #jungkook au #my fic #collab

[joyceisfox]

Girl's Vintage（13 items）

hello!hello! hope you guys everything is well:)

I'm so honor and pleasure to create "Girl's Vintage" CAS content with （@wsyzxkw 、@huiernxoxo ）two outstanding creators this month, Let me introduce this series to you：

The girls have a wild romance, wandering the farm with her good faith, enjoying the afternoon sun, maybe a good day.

Each with 35 swatchs

Base game

13items

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go to see Huien's part & JIUMIQAQ's part

After completing this content, I'm very thankful them , QAQ teaching me many tips on creating CAS content, I really learned a lot. and thanks Huien for using Blender to create our cover. anyway, thank you both for selflessly helped me when I needed help, love u two♥

✂-------------------------

Thanks to other creators：

🪴Hair：simstrouble ；

🪴Shoes：Jius-sims 、DallasGirl 、charonlee 、Madlen ；

🪴Necklace：Serenity 、Rimings 、christopher0672 ;

🪴Posepack: helgatisha

✂-------------------------

Public on August 6th

Download（Patreon）

✂-------------------------

TOU:

Please do not claim as your own.

请勿声称创作者是你自己

Please do not re-upload.

请勿重新上传

Please do not re-edit.

请勿重新编辑我的网格

#sims4 #sim4download #s4cc #sims 4 #sims4cc #s4mm #sims4 cc #the sims 4 #the sims 4 cc #the sims4 cc #jiumiqaq #huiensims #sims4 clothing cc #sims 4 cas #sims create a sim

[milaisreading]

5th times the charm?

Pairings: Itoshi Sae x Isagi's sister!Yn

Warnings: Reader uses she/her. Requests are open. This is just a small Valentine's Day idea I had, since the day is approaching us quickly.

⚽️Blue Lock belongs to Muneyuki Kaneshiro and Yusuke Nomura ⚽️

Ever since he could remember, Yoichi thought of of his sister as someone who could be described as a hopeless romantic at heart. And while that was something he really admired in (Y/n), her faith in love and finding the right person, it also worried him. He loved his sister a lot, she was a kind and very caring person, so he always wanted the best for her. He mainly wanted her to have a good partner, since finding one was always one of her goals, but Yoichi noted one thing about her crush and dating history. And that was, (Y/n) always seemed to find assholes as love interests. While he doesn't remember much about (Y/n)'s pre-school and elementary school, he would sometimes hear his mom and her talk about those things in the kitchen, a random memory popping out here and there. Middle school and high school was something he does remember pretty vividly the two times she would come home crying. Sure, back then he didn't know much about these things and would try to cheer (Y/n) up, but now that he is older he is more aware of these things. That's why he took it upon himself to keep his teammates away from (Y/n). They were good football players and friends, don't get Yoichi wrong, but he couldn't imagine them with his sister.

Then, to his horror, when his career took of in Re Al, he was confronted with the harsh truth that Sae Itoshi of all people asked (Y/n) out, to which she ended up agreeing! Yoichi tried to keep his opinion at the time to himself, not wanting to offend Sae. But, once the siblings were left alone, he warned his sister about dating him.

'Don't worry. I am sure this time it will be different.' Yoichi recalled her words, and he just hopes she was right. And if she wasn't, an accidental kick of the ball into Sae's face will help him calm down.

Looking at the digital clock, (Y/n) yawned as she read the time.

"Already 23:30... and I am not even done decorating this. I shouldn't have waited till last minute." She muttered to herself, looking down at the homemade chocolate and at some of the decorative items she bought the day before. It was the night before Valentine's Day and (Y/n) was doing her absolute best for the chocolate to turn out as good as possible. She really wanted to impress Sae with it, but also see his reaction. It's something she would do ever since she was little. Her mom would tell her to always look at how a guy will react to the little gifts, and make her judgement based on that. And well, so far (Y/n) faced disappointment after disappointment.

'Eww. The card looks stupid, and pink isn't even my favorite color! I am a boy, are you stupid?!'

(Y/n) flinched as she remembered one of the first boys she liked rip her Valentine's Day card into two and throw it at her. That was disappointment #1.

'I don't like this chocolate brand. Next time get me something else.' Safe to say she never looked at disappointment #2 again. Why were elementary school boys so into brand named chocolate? (Y/n) hummed as she mixed some blue and green into the white chocolate.

'The chocolate tastes nice, I didn't know you could cook or whatever. But, you aren't my type, thanks for the chocolate, tho.' Disappointment #3 came up in middle school. (Y/n) wasn't sure why she cried that day, possibly because he was the first guy she had a serious crush on? It was a mystery to her.

'I don't like girls like you. You are way too much of a high maintenance. And besides, I found someone else. She looks more like a football players girlfriend.' Disappointment #4 came along in her final year of high school. Oliver was someone she met by chance, he wasn't her classmate or anything. Just a boy she met at a local café she met and secretly dated for a while. (Y/n) knew je was someone who liked women, a lot, but she held out hope that he might change for her. Well, she came to realize that the hope was foolish.

(Y/n) bit back her tears as she put the chocolate into the fridge, her heart pounding in fear.

'Please, please be different.' She thought, praying that the 5th time will do the trick.

Now, Sae wasn't a romantic person and never really saw the appeal in relationships or acting all lovesick for another person. In his mind football and practice were the only things that should occupy him... until he became one of those lovesick individuals. Although he tried to hide it, and failed according to Rin and Yoichi, Sae was completely in love with the older Isagi sibling. Always being more gentle and mindful of his words around (Y/n), and doing his best to show off his skills in front of her when she would watch a Re Al match. So, to nobody's surprise, Sae spent 2 weeks preparing a gift for Valentine's Day for (Y/n), something Rin wouldn't let him live down if he found out.

'Hope she likes this.' Sae thought as he finished wrapping up the plush toy he found. It was a limited edition item he saw (Y/n) eyeing for a while, so he had to be fast and get it before it was sold out.

The next day, the two met up in a nearby park to exchange the gifts and go for a stroll through Madrid later.

"Happy Valentine's Day!" The two said at the same time, presenting their gifts in front of each other.

"Huh? You got me a gift as well?" (Y/n) raised an eyebrow as her heartbeat quickened, earning a nod from Sae.

"Of course."

"But, White day is-"

"I don't care. I will get you a gift for Valentine's Day and White Day." Sae shrugged as (Y/n)'s face turned red.

"You... you shouldn't do that." She argued, but the redhead shook his head to her words.

"No. I want to."

"O-oh..." (Y/n) felt like her heart was about to explode as she handed Sae the chocolate. Neatly wrapped in a pink and white package with a few heart stickers here and there. Sae kept quiet as he inspected the box after handing (Y/n) the gift he got her. The girl felt her heart sink for a moment when he didn't say anything, already fearing the worst.

'The colors are probably wrong-' Her thoughts got interrupted as she saw Sae smile softly and unwrapped the gift.

'He... He doesn't mind the colors?!' She gulped, hugging the gift closer to her form, watching as he took a bite from the chocolate.

"It's not much and not a brand-named item, but I hope you like it." (Y/n) said timidly as Sae raised an eyebrow.

"I don't care. This chocolate is better than any store bought I ever had. Can you make more when you have time?" Sae wondered, eating more as (Y/n) eyes widened in surprise.

"Y-you like it?! You want me to make more?" She asked, face getting redder as her heart was close to burst out of her chest.

"Of course. You made it. Why wouldn't I like it? I love it, actually." Sae smiled at the girl. There was a silence for a moment and (Y/n) felt a few tears escape her eyes, which caused Sae to panic and move closer to see what the issue was.

"Are you alright? I am sorry. Did I say something wrong?-"

"I love you." (Y/n) sobbed out, hugging Sae tightly. The player was taken aback for a moment, but quickly recovered and hugged her back as a small smile was formed on his face.

"Love you, too."

#bllk #blue lock anime #blue lock manga #blue lock x reader #bllk x reader #blue lock scenarios #blue lock #isagi's sister #itoshi sae #blue lock sae #bllk sae #itoshi sae x reader #itoshi sae x y/n #sae x reader

[kkurades]

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ RED LIPSTICK ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

━━ you feel flattered when charlie shelby asks to marry you while your husband feels like he could strangle his nephew

word count: 2014

pairing: fem!reader x john shelby

warnings: none

The Shelby's were always your family.

From a young age, you had been a Shelby. Even though you weren't blood-related, they were more of a family than your actual family could ever be.

While you and Ada were nearest in age, you had always been closest with John.

It didn't matter whether you were two youthful teenagers messing around or two passionate lovers who tried to find their place in the world.

You and John had always been each other's priority.

So, it came as no surprise when you turned out being pregnant by John at the age of sixteen.

You and John happily married each other as Arthur walked you down the aisle.

The day that your first daughter had been born was the day that John vowed to you that he would grant you more children if that was what made you happy.

So, you had five more kids after Katie.

Even though your life was far from ideal, you still loved it with every fiber in your body.

John was an incredible husband. He was always faithful to you and constantly made an effort to spend as much time as he could with you and the kids.

A particular thing that he loved to do was to spoil you. Anytime you even merely glimpsed at a dress, the following day it would be hanging in your wardrobe.

You had frequently told John that he didn't have to purchase you expensive items, but he constantly said that he loved to do it.

Tonight, you were wearing a black dress that John had bought you for a gala that would be hosted by one of Tommy's business partners.

You were seated on the bench that stood in front of your bed as you slipped on your heels. A giggle escaped your mouth as you felt John's wet kisses on the side of your neck as he crept onto you from behind.

“John, we can't do this right now,” you said while your husband wrapped his arms around you.

“We can do whatever the fuck we want,” he muttered against the base of your throat as his hands roamed over your body.

You tilted your head back onto his shoulder, which gave him more access to your neck.

“Fucking hell, love,” John mumbled as a grin appeared on his chiseled face.

Just before he could get any further, you heard the door to your shared bedroom open, revealing your third-born son.

“Mummy! Tell Katie to stop putting makeup on me!” He cried out, entirely ignoring John who looked like he was done with his life.

John loved your kids, he really did. But he can't stop questioning why they won't ever leave the two of you alone for more than five minutes.

Fred ran over to you before leaping onto your lap as he buried his face into your neck, which John had been harassing a few moments prior.

“Bloody hell, Fred. What'd Katie do to your face?” John asked his son as he caught a glimpse of red lipstick smeared all over his face and a deep green eye shadow covering the lids of his eye.

“She put it all over my face!” He hissed while he attempted to conceal his face into your neck as deep as he could.

“That's not true, mum! He asked me to do it for him!” You heard Katie yell from her room while Fred settled down in your arms.

John let out a groan before getting off the bed to get a damp cloth to get the cosmetics off his son's face.

While he went to the bathroom, you caressed Fred's back soothingly which lulled him to sleep along with your consoling flower perfume which you had applied earlier that evening.

When John returned, you carefully turned your son in your arms before softly wiping the makeup from his face.

After having made sure that his face was spotless you stood up to carry him to his chamber while John watched you quietly.

You put Fred to bed before making sure that all of your other children were all safe and sound in their beds.

You kissed them all on their forehead as they told you a 'goodnight mum' before you switched off the light and made your way back to your shared room.

When you entered your room, you noticed John slumping against the headboard while he stared at the wall opposite of him.

“John?” You leaned against the door frame as he glanced at you before he clambered off the bed and made his way towards you.

Your husband tugged you into his taller frame while kissing you gently. He kissed the corner of your mouth before he lowered his lips to your jaw. When he reached your neck, he instantly pulled back as a disgusted look was present on his handsome features.

You furrowed your brows curiously as he stormed off towards the bathroom that was attached to your bedroom.

A few moments later you followed him only to see him holding his tongue under the water.

When he looked up at the mirror where he saw your figure, he gestured to his neck as the water got all over him.

“Gret hot uhin mahuh aw awe joh ek,” he mumbled as you frowned with a perplexed look on your face.

“What now?” John rolled his eyes before repeating the same sentence. When he noticed that you weren’t going to comprehend what he said, he turned off the water before turning to you.

“Fred got fucking makeup all over your neck,” he snarled, which made you look in the mirror where you glimpsed red and green lipstick stained on your neck.

“Oh,” you simply said before grabbing a damp towel to get it off your neck while John went to change his clothes so that he would look appropriate tonight.

After having scrubbed your neck, you made your way downstairs. John was already waiting at the front door with an adoring smile on his face as you put on your coat.

“You ready love?” You nodded at your husband, taking his outstretched arm before making your way to his car.

During the car ride to the Arrow house, you chatted John's ear off, which he didn't mind even if he whined about it.

Briefly afterward, you reached your destination before you made your way inside where the rest of the Shelby's stood.

“You're finally here! I was beginning to think that you two got lost,” Arthur exclaimed as he caught sight of you.

“Nah, the kids were being pissy,” John wrapped his arm around your waist, catching the lingering stares of the men who surrounded you.

You greeted all of your in-laws before going to stand next to Tommy, who was supervising Charlie.

“How's Charlie?” Tommy turned to you, allowing his eyes to leave Charlie for the first time that night, which provided him the opportunity to take off.

“He's alright. How're the kids?”

“They're alright,” you echoed, which made his lips turn upwards slightly.

“I-” Tommy was rapidly cut off as he noticed Charlie nearing the two of you with a cheeky smile on his child like features.

You scrunched up your face in disarray at Tommy's interruption before you followed his sight line and noticed Charlie.

The young boy had slicked his hair back with water and had requested Polly to make sure that he looked decent.

The two of you silently stared at Charlie as he cleared his throat before extending his arm out towards you.

“Dear Miss. Y/l/n allow me this dance,” you noticed that he resorted to using your maiden name and that he addressed you with Miss instead of Mrs.

You and Tommy shared an amused glance before you accepted his offer.

“Of course Mr. Shelby,” you took his arm, having to bent down slightly because he was five.

He chose a spot in the middle of the room before he turned back to you and made you pick him up so that you were in the same eye line.

“You look extremely beautiful. As usual, of course,” he rambled nervously with negligibly flush cheeks while you danced softly from side to side.

“Thank you sir. You look very handsome if you ask me,” you remarked with a kind smile on your face, which made him giggle giddily.

John had been searching for you for the past ten minutes after having closed an agreement with one of their business partners.

He had felt exceptionally pleased with himself and was thrilled to tell his wife about his triumph.

When he asked Polly about your whereabouts, but she told him that she saw you last with Tommy.

So now he was making his way to his older brother who was staring off somewhere with a fond smile on his face while Arthur was cracking up beside to him.

“Tommy, have you seen Y/n? Can’t find her anywhere,” Tommy and Arthur turned towards their younger brother before they swapped an amused look.

“Careful there John-boy little Charlie is planning to steal your wife,” Arthur laughed loudly which drew in some unwanted attention.

John furrowed his brows as he followed Arthur’s finger which was pointing at Charlie, who had enveloped his legs around his wife’s waist while she swayed from side to side with a smile on her face.

“That little fucker,” John mumbled under his breath as Arthur laughed even harder if that was achievable, and a small grin arose on Tommy’s face.

Polly and Micheal drew near the brothers, having noticed them by Arthur's loud laughing.

“What’s going on?” Tommy grinned at his aunt and cousin as Arthur was practically rolling on the floor, while John didn’t keep his eyes off his nephew who had caught his stare and smiled mischievously at him which only aggravated him more.

“My nephew is a real lady’s man,” Both Polly and Micheal glanced at Charlie who was kissing your cheek while maintaining eye contact with his furious uncle.

Micheal grinned slightly as the corner of Polly’s lips turned upwards in amusement.

“I swear if he doesn’t get his fucking hands off my wife, I will,” John declared angrily before you caught them all watching you.

You smiled sweetly at your family, which made your husband smile back at you while Arthur was trying to retain his giggles.

When the song ended, you put Charlie down before he led you back towards the Shelby's who were watching you with amusement shimmering in their eyes.

John quickly took you back from Charlie, which made the small boy frown before he turned to his father.

“I want to marry Y/n,” he simply spoke.

Your eyes enlarged while you gaped at him, Arthur got into another fit of laughter while your husband looked ready to annihilate his nephew.

“No. Absolutely fucking not,” John stated, which made Charlie roll his eyes at his uncle.

“And why not?” He questioned sassy.

“She’s already married to me,” John replied, Charlie, walked over to you and held your hand while the rest of the family silently watched the scene unfold.

“So? She can divorce you,”

“She’s too old for you. She could be your mother. Besides, she’s your aunt,” Your husband looked ready to pulverize him.

“But if you two divorce, then she won’t be my aunt anymore. And any woman older than eighteen could be my mother. Didn’t you get her pregnant when she was sixteen?”

Micheal choked on his drink, and you stared at Charlie with a perplexed look on your face. Polly was full-on grinning, while Arthur was turning red from the lack of air.

“Get here you little shit,” Tommy held John back as his son backed into you, looking for your protection from your husband.

“I think you should run before your uncle catches you,” you whispered to Charlie, who nodded before taking off into the crowd.

“Well, that was fucking amazing,” Arthur spoke before downing his drink at once.

©cupidsheqrt , 2022.

#peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinders masterlist #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders #john shelby #john shelby imagine #john shelby x you #john shelby x reader #tommy shelby #polly gray #charlie shelby #arthur shelby #micheal gray

[sytiart]

This is a little personal project i've started early this year. A full Asura house! I wanted to practice with interiors since i do have a job dealing with them but not dealing with the design part.

What i noticed is that designing the spaces is hard, really. It's not just about filling the rooms with items, that's kinda straight forward. But designing the actual spaces was a problem for me and a carefull look can spot several problems :'D

But i decided it was ok, I was more interested in the final look and I had fun with all the tiny items in the rooms.

I had fun inking. Even if it was an endless process and it really got me tired ad the end. But i'm satisfied by looking at the b&w lines!

In the final version, each line was coloured. First, with a trick to bulk color them. And then manually, where it was necessary. The final result is a bit messy if you zoom 100% but it works just fine at web-sizes.

I decided to publish the final version as a small file for reasons u_ù buuut this doesn't stop me from doing close-ups! I also posed the asura inside according to the light source, it was fun ;3

Overall, I tried to stay faithful to Asura designs, taking lots of ingame references and designing extra items based on them (like the bath tub (even if I think an asura would rather bathe with a little golem model rather than a quaggan one xDDD). That was the most fun part! I love asura culture being so tribal (inca-like, stone and garish textiles) and yet full of advanced magitech. That's the very first thing that won me over to the master race ;DDD

#gw2 #guild wars 2 #guild wars art #gw2 fan submission #drawing #illustration #sydrawsasura

[untitled-tmnt-blog]

Summary of Cartoon Base's Q&A with Ron Corcillo

(Feb 10, 2024)

This is VERY long, so putting it under the cut!

Apocalyptic Future

We don't know how Donnie and Raph died specifically, but it was in combat against the Krang.

The turtles were leaders of the resistance and obviously went through some serious trauma. We don't really know how that affected them emotionally. It might be interesting to do a series that explored that timeline at some point.

Leo was the best ninja fighter. Once Raph and Donnie were gone, he was also the leader of the resistance. He also had a special affinity for Casey. He may have felt particularly responsible for Casey once his mother was gone.

Mikey probably could have communicated with Raph/Donnie/Splinter in the same way they could communicate with Karai, even though we didn't get the chance to see it.

The turtles wouldn't have had time for having their own kids or starting families. They were too busy fighting the krang, and the world was too dangerous for raising children.

They couldn't work out everyone's timelines in the bad future, but presumably, Big Mama's assistant would have joined the resistance, because what else could you do? She would have to have adopted her brothers as allies.

Mikey is definitely less cheerful and more wise, but he still ultimately has faith in the goodness of people and the world. Some things, you just can't change.

The turtles are in their early 40's, but the war has taken a toll.

Characters

Splinter spent a lot of time in the Hidden City, so he knows about more mystic things than we realize. He's developed those skills (i.e. using Leo's odachi to make a portal on the first try), but they've been dormant for a while.

Donnie can temporarily create items with his powers like the ones we see in the movie, but to make a tangible item that would last, he's have to build it physically the way he would with any of his tech.

Leo probably had the hardest time accepting Draxum, since he is the most skeptical. Mikey is the one who accepts Draxum the most easily. But they did have episodes planned where Leo and Draxum work together, so Leo would have gotten over it as well.

They had never worked out a name for the second turtle sister (the first possibly being named after Frida Kahlo), but would have chosen another female artist to name her after. Maybe Camille, after Camille Claudel.

The planned sisters would be roughly the same age as the turtles, so also teenagers. The only existing designs are what we saw on screen. They had never settled on colors for them.

CJ and present Leo is kind of a weird dynamic, when you think about it. Casey still couldn't help but see Leo as a father figure, but it must be a little different when you're roughly the same age.

Leo keeps whatever he wants in the little bags he has attached to his belt. Snacks, candy, fidget toys, body spray - this is Leo, after all.

Splinter had never celebrated the turtles birthdays in the past, because he was so depressed about his own mutation. But going forward, now that he's come to grips with who he really is, he would start to celebrate that day.

A meeting between Cassandra and Casey Junior would be incredibly heartfelt. Break out the tissues.

They thought about bringing Piebald back in Man vs. Sewer, but it didn't work out. She's definitely still out there in the sewers, so there would be plenty of opportunity for the turtles to interact with her again.

Following the movie, the most serious repercussions would be to Raph mentally. He would still be carrying some of that krang mentality. He might even occasionally pick up on thoughts of the krang. It would almost be like he had some form of ptsd.

A lot of Draxum's softening only comes from after his horrible experience of having his life force sucked away by the dark armor. He may have never seen the error of his ways without an experience like that. So, if the boys had never been taken by Splinter, he probably would have gone through with his plan to make them into weapons.

Splinter would have understood that Casey Jr became a soldier because he had to, and wouldn't have a problem with that. He would view Casey Jr as a nephew or grandson. They're all used to thinking of people as family even if they're not exactly related.

As far as mystic abilities, Mikey is definitely the most powerful. Donnie and Raph both seem to have pretty strong powers too, maybe Donnie a little more so. Leo is the one who relies the least on mystic power and the most on his physical and mental skills.

Donnie definitely seems to embrace the mystic power at the end of season 2 and in the movie. Ultimately, he would find ways to combine it with his tech for supreme power-ups.

April is 18 and the turtles are 16-18. Casey Jr is around late teens or 20.

Rise Lore

Given that the first krang that came to earth crashed into the Crying Titan, there must have been some form of historic yokai/hidden city even before the empyrean was around to introduce mystic powers. After all, someone must have built the Crying Titan. Maybe it was built by some other race that actually predates the yokai, and the yokai evolved from that race, affected by the emperyan.

There are definitely still krang out there, and most of the ones that we encounter are evil. The possibility of a good Krang could exist, though.

Before the humans, the yokai roamed freely both on the surface of the Earth and underground. They were probably a lot happier then, and somewhat more numerous. Oppression by the humans must have taken a toll on them.

There were a lot of Hamato and only so many powers you could have, so there would have been a lot of overlap in ninpo abilities across all the ancestors.

The Prison Dimension and Dimension X are two different dimensions. Dimension X is where the krang are originally from, and the Prison Dimension was just used to get rid of villains. Both exist in the Rise universe.

If there was more Rise

There weren't any specific plans for Kendra, but she certainly could have been interesting as a frenemy.

They would definitely want to get into Casey's whole history with the TMNT, his mom, etc.

They would have wanted to develop April and Sunita's friendship a lot more, and see how both of them related to Cassandra Jones.

They'd make as many seasons as they'd be allowed to! But seriously, they could easily fill at least 3 more seasons. There's a lot to unlock with the Krang, and they'd also want to expore much more with Big Mama and the Hidden City.

Cassandra might not have been part of the main group, but she would have been a regular ally.

Cassandra and the turtles would have been allies, fighting the Krang. It's clear from the end of the movie that Cassandra is now roaming around and fighting krang, so she and the turtles could connect occasionally as a running storyline.

A new season would pick up from where the movie left off, so it would be a new plan instead of what was already made.

Bishop would have to be an ally, considering that the turtles had just saved the Earth. But he might be a grudging ally, one who didn't really trust the turtles or didn't like the fact that they don't play by the rules.

It would definitely be easier to do crossovers with the other 2D animated series, like the 87 series or the 2003 series. They could have some fun playing with both the writing and animation style of those shows. Combining 2D and CG animation is more difficult.

They probably would not have mutated April, as it would be a big step. In the scrapped episode where Dale turned into a wolf mutant, it was a result of a temporary mystic curse. They could certainly do something like that with April.

The turtles would still be able to comminicate with Karai through mystic means.

They would have gotten a lot more into the history of the Council of Heads in future seasons when they explored the relationship between the Hidden City and the Krang. They are clearly among the most ancient of yokai, possibly predating the Hidden City itself.

They could have done a temporary reverse mutation via some sort of mystic spell, to give the turtles human designs. It might have been fun since it seems to be something that fans enjoy so much.

They would have had the turtles go to the krang's dimension at some point in order to defeat the krang fully. They could have encountered any of the traditional dimension x/z stuff that way.

The storyline where the boys find their sisters would probably still happen. People would want to see it, even though it's been spoiled.

They had plans to eventually visit other Hidden Cities, such as one beneath Tokyo.

Cut Episodes/Scenes

In the original ending of the movie where Casey says goodbye and leaves, he was going to find his mom.

One of the scrapped episodes had to do with Mikey taking care of the other turtles when they were transformed into toddlers. He was a natural caretaker.

They never planned on a space arc, but they probably would have done one where they travel to the Krang dimension. They also were going to travel to the prison dimension to release Karai, and they could have had other adventures there as well.

Behind the Scenes

For the episode Pizza Puffs, Ben Schwartz did his part for feverish Leo without looking at the script so he would sound confused.

It would be great if Nickelodeon released some of the finished animatics for the lost season 2 episodes that were already boarded, but unfortunately, it's all copywrited material.

All animated movies go through multiple revisions, rewrites, and changes, which is why some of the original rise movie storyboards were scrapped.

They do remote recording all the time, especially since covid.

The amount that a writer incorporates into a fight scene varies from script to script. Sometimes, there are moments in a fight scene that are key to the story. If so, they are written out. Otherwise, they would sometimes write out a fight scene but know that it would change in the board. Sometimes, they'd just shorthand it.

The writers try not to indulge in too much fanfic because there could be copyright issues if it is similar to anything they would ever do in the show.

When writing the brothers, it was important to keep them in character. You have to know exactly who your characters are, all the time, in every way. The audience will forgive you if you do things that aren't exactly logical, but they won't forgive you if you sell out your characters.

There was never an overall map done of the lairs, just individual rooms. It was always kind of tricky for them to figure out exactly how to move the characters from one room to the other.

The krang invasion was specific to the movie, so we probably wouldn't have seen it in the series at all if it had not been cut short.

Other TMNT Characters

They weren't necessarily planning to add characters from other versions yet. They still had so many areas to explore that were specific to Rise, like the Hidden City, the yokai, and the history of the krang.

There were no particular plans for Honeycutt. One character that they wanted to use but never did was Monty Moose, and they were trying very hard to figure out a way to incorporate him into a story.

They didn't have any plans for Renet, but a character like her could easily fit into the Rise universe. Obviously time travel is a big part of the movie. They could use her to explore timelines that might have happened had the events of the movie turned out differently.

They didn't get a chance to explore triceratons, so there could certainly still be some out there.

Any similarities between Big Mama's assistant and the High Mage from TMNT 2003 are coincidental. They gave her the cape and hood to disguise her identity.

They didn't have any plans for Beebop and Rocksteady, since they don't really fit in with the Rise version of Shredder and the Foot Clan.

The turtles certainly could meet Yuichi Usagi.

Usagi Yojimbo crossovers are always fun. Ron could see one where his dimension has been overrun by the krang, and he comes to our dimension to seek the turtles' help because they're the only ones who have ever defeated the krang.

Ron-Specific Questions

Ron's personal favorite episodes are "Hot Soup: The Game" and "Sparring Partner."

They were super excited when they got John Lydon (aka Johnny Rotten) as Meat Sweats, just because Ron and Russ are big pink rock fans.

When asked about favorite duos, Ron likes Raph & Mikey, Donnie & April, and Leo & Senor Hueso.

If he could only save one episode from Rise and the rest became lost media, Ron would save the four-part finale.

If he could save one cut episode or plotline, Ron would want to save the more complete version of the end of season 2, where we would have seen much more of the turtles training and bonding with Karai.

Ron was not part of the new Saturday Morning Adventures comic that has Rise Raph on the cover.

If he could make a spin-off, Ron would want to do a series where Cassandra roams the Earth fighting remnants of the krang, joined by her son Casey, and occasionally joined by individual turtles and others. Draxum might join forces with her as well.

Miscellaneous

The silhouette in a tank shown at the end of Bug Busters was meant to illustrate Lou Jitsu when he is first hit with the ooze and mutated along with the turtles. It's more of a memory than an exact replication.

The reason Raph was transformed via the pod instead of instantanously may have been because Raph was unwilling, and was more difficult to change than someone like the Foot Clan ninjas, who underwent their transformation willingly.

They never attempted to get a brand deal with a soup company so fans could get Rise hot soup, but it would be a good idea.

The photo from the movie was taken just before the krang arrived.

When asked which Rise character is most likely to be Spider-Man: none of them, because he's owned by Marvel and Sony.

When asked why Donnie likes cute bratty girls: Ron is not sure where that comes from.

In Dungeons and Dragons, Raph would be a fighter class, Mikey would be some sort of illusionist, Leo would be a clever assassin or theif. Donnie would insist on being a scientist because he's sure there would have been at least one sensible person back then. April would be the DM.

Ron doesn't know what the illegible skate ramp graffiti means, but can ask one of the designers about it.

In a coffee shop, Mikey would be the baker, Donnie would create the most efficient coffee brewing system ever, Raph and April would run the business side, and Leo would be the most demanding customer ever.

The Future of Rise

The demand for Rise merch is real. It would be nice if Nickelodeon would put out more official merch.

There are no current plans for a season 3, but we can keep trying!

All we can really do to try and get Rise back is continue to share the show and encourage other people to watch. As well as keep it trending whenever we can. Sooner or later, someone will realize that there's a very real demand for this show.

He has talked about the potential for continuing the show in a comic book or short format, or in some other formats as well.

When asked if there's any chance of Netflix picking up Rise, or for both Tales of the TMNT and Rise to coexist -- anything's possible!

Ron would love to see a Rise comic series, but it's not his call. As far as if it would be darker, Ron thinks it's important that for Rise, they keep things light-hearted and comedic. That was always the goal of the show.

Shows rarely get "cancelled" in kids animation. It can always be brought back, but the focus is on Tales of the TMNT for now. He's said before that Rise could be brought back down the road as a "retro" series, or in other formats like a comic book, movie, or shorts.

... plus one answer, that does not have the original question attached:

"She would be stunned, and probably disbelieving at first. But we would find a way (through mystic means) for her to see her future timeline, at which point she would be overcome with emotion."

#rottmnt #rise of the tmnt #ron corcillo #cartoon base #Q&A #my post #tmnt #Q&A summary

[platinumshawnn]

ESCAPISM | jburrow

AN: I’m here to bring u some bar joe vibes as it was my birthday yesterday, featuring some Nick bosa with RAYE’s music being the vibe here. I also got carried away so bless to souls who actually read this whole thing through lol. I also have yet to decide if I do a second bit to this

Warning(s): alcohol consumption, idk some sexual tension, some lowkey implication of a previous hookup. And PLEASE for the love of god, don’t share drinks with people at the bar, stay safe kids

Word count: 3.9k

Her eyes darted between the clock on the wall and the table in front of her, the box on top of it white and wrapped with a neat, silver bow that would occasionally sparkle under the light of her kitchen; her tv still playing the old-time movie she had been previously engrossed in — a childhood favorite her grandma would play to distract her when she babysat her as a child. 11:59 — one minute.

She turned, heels clacking against the marble tiled floor with each step as she approached the bag that had been lazily tossed earlier that afternoon after her shift, the paper bag crinkling with movement as she fished the small box of candles and the plastic container possessing a single piece of red velvet cake; her gaze on it as she turned and made her way back to where her glass had sat, awaiting her return with lipstick smudge on its rim. Her eyes were temporarily drawn to the television as the scene became the source of commotion that echoed throughout the room, setting the cake and candles down. She reached across the counter to fetch the candle lighter that sat in a bin of items that were usually tossed when she returned home from work, sliding it towards herself as her right hand began to fidget to the dessert, popping open with a cracking sound. Her stance shifted, her hips resting against the countertop while her legs crossed at her ankles as she dropped her eyes to the candles, picking up the box and using her nails to pry open the small cardboard box to slide one out between her fingers; plucking the small wax stick out and plopping it into the slice of red velvet. Her gaze lifted to look across the room at the clock — any second.

She paused, watching as the second hand quickly rounded the seconds, counting down. The lighter was picked up, pressing the ignite switch to trigger a flame that caught her eye for a moment, watching intently as her hand hovered over the cake and caught the wick of the candle to light it; the flame slowly growing from a small spark. Her eyes lifted one last time to the clock as it struck midnight, looking down at the candle again and stepping back one step as she bent over to plant her elbows against the countertop and stared at the flame, her eyes shutting as she paused.

Let this be a good year. Give me one damn good year.

Her eyes opened after a second, sucking in a breath as her lips parted, puckering to sharply blow out; watching as the candle was extinguished in a swift moment, leaving behind nothing more than smoke as a reminisce of its previous bright orange light. She stood upright, reaching for the glass of wine — her fourth, the cause of the buzz that had spread throughout her body, reaching as far as her toes. There was a moment of silence in the apartment, apart from the soft hum of her television as she stared at the cake in front of her, taking a small sip from her glass, the bittersweet drink being held on her tongue for a moment longer before she swallowed and let out a scoff, pathetic that she was putting so much hope and faith into a candle. She brought the glass back to her lips and tipped it back, tossing back the remaining contents with a sharp swallow and exhaling from her nose as she set the glass down suddenly with a harsher thud than intended, an exasperated sigh leaving her as she lifted the glass to eye the base to ensure she hadn’t cracked or broken it. Once the glass was cleared, she placed it back down and eyed the box from her friend on the counter — a little gift, her friend had described it as when she had slid it to her during brunch earlier, wide eyed and stopping her from opening it right then and there in the middle of the restaurant.

“Later, not now!” She had whispered across the table.

Her phone chimed on the counter, tearing her gaze away from the box as she reached for it and lifted it, her friend’s name and face looking back at her as she paused before answering and beginning to walk away from the counter, shutting the plastic lid to the cake as she moved, “Hey, hey.” She greeted, hearing a chorus of shouts over the phone upon her answering the phone, the high pitched squeal of her friend above them all.

“My lover, my birthday girl!” Lauren screeched, more excited than she herself could muster as she reached down with her left hand to smooth the short black dress over her thighs; having ridden up with movement, the black tights not helping their slide.

“I’m just about to leave, I should be there soon.” She answered, sighing out a laugh at the girl on the other end of the phone call.

“Good, we’re waiting on you!” She shouted over the noise that just threatened to drown out her drunken words — she could picture her now as Lauren seemingly brought the phone away from her mouth to yell something to someone on her end of the line, probably plugging her one ear and squinting, crouched over as she struggled to keep upright in her heels that she had only worn for the sake of appearances, despite how much she hated heels. Her voice returned after a moment, raspy from shouting over music, “So, how does it feel? Twenty-five!”

She let out a groan as she rolled her shoulders, flipping her hair back over her right shoulder as she began to walk towards the door to the apartment, shutting off lights as she walked and fixing her left heel while balancing the phone between her shoulder and cheek. “Oh god, don’t say it like that.” She whined.

“Like what? It’s a sexy age!” Lauren defended, having turned twenty-seven just a few months prior. “It’s a perfect age, like a second coming— one year closer to being the hot aunt everyone wants to bang.” She rambled, though there was a slur to her words that reminded her to take her ramblings with a grain of salt as she laughed out loud.

“I’m hanging up, I’ll be—“

“You better not pull out!” Lauren shouted, earning a sharp laugh from her friend who slid her jacket over her shoulders and grabbed her bag, unlocking her apartment door to step into the chilly hallway that was devoid of any sign of life.

“I will be there in fifteen minutes, I’m walking there now.” She interrupted, hearing as Lauren was yet again yelling to someone off mic.

“Okay, don’t get grabbed!”

Her mouth opened, ready to shoot back some type of witty response, something sarcastic but she was met with the tone that Lauren had hung up on her; pulling the phone away from her face as she walked down the hallway towards the elevator, seeing that she had ended the call. A short laugh left her mouth, a stiff sound that resembled more of a scoff as she shut her phone screen off and shoved it away into her purse; slinging the small bag over her shoulder as she stopped outside the elevator and leaned to press the button. If not a good year, give me a good night at least.

—

She had the sudden urge to reach for a cigarette from her purse as she rounded the corner, coming out of the hallway that extended into the club from the entrance, her jacket having been checked in at coat-check, the stupid little ticket being shoved deep into her bag as if that would prevent her from losing it during the night. But her urge would be met with empty efforts after having quit smoking six months prior — the most she would find, if she was lucky, was a lighter that probably was on its last leg after too many nights out and being buried under god knows what in her bag; certain it had fallen in far too many puddles in the wetter months of the year when Lauren had dragged her out. She hated clubs, hated coming to places like this but Lauren was persuasive and she hated the thought of her here alone more, but had found the ability to enjoy it enough to tolerate her and even found it to be exhilarating at times. How many hidden kisses had she experienced in the back hallway, leading towards the bathrooms? Her gaze skimmed over the hallway briefly as she passed it, already beginning to feel the density of the crowd tonight as she stepped on to the floor, her hands reaching for the hem of her dress again as she shuddered at the thought of how many people she had kissed — the thought of how she could barely place faces or names to them gross, but worse when the realization sank in that she couldn’t even remember their faces. She could only justify it by looking up at the neon lights that possessed a blue hue, scanning over the crowd of bodies that seemed to sway with the beat — the dim lights here could make anyone attractive.

Her shoulders were jostled by bodies as she nudged through the crowd, navigating towards the booth section that was elevated over the rest of the club, overlooking the dancefloor that was packed like a can of sardines; her hands in at her waist as she brushed past the endless sea of people. The odd hand would reach out for her elbow as she moved, hearing a whistle over her shoulder, but her gaze stayed fixed forward as she walked while her chin seemed to lower the further into the crowd she managed to get, trying to avoid any unnecessary interactions brought on by accidental eye contact.

Her shoulders relaxed with a breath she hadn’t even realized she was holding as she reached the bouncer who was overlooking the entrance to the booth section, having to lean up on her toes to shout her name over the music as he rose an eyebrow at her; the clipboard in his hand held up as if to wordlessly ask for her reservation. His head nodded, turning to allow her past and offering a hand to her to help as she stepped up the two steps that separated the section from the rest of the room, glad as she awkwardly wobbled as she stepped up and straightened her shoulders. Through the dim lighting, she immediately saw Lauren’s hand fly up and wave for her over a shoulder, her head peering around the guy in front of her as she found her friend and pushing past him to shuffle towards her; watching as her hands flew over her chest to contain herself from a wardrobe malfunction with the bouncing motion as her friend slowly began to approach, letting out a laugh and gesturing to her own chest to signify Lauren’s situation.

“Oh, careful!” She shouted as Lauren approached her.

Lauren immediately reached out for a hug, one arm still at her chest and fixing the black strapless front that was barely being held up by what she could assume was some fashion tape, hopes and dreams. “I was worried!” Lauren shouted into her ear.

She scrunched her nose and leaned away from the hug after a moment, shaking her head while her arm wrapped around her waist, guiding her into turning to make her way back to the table where she could make out multiple heads belonging to guests Lauren had gathered on her behalf, “You really shouldn’t worry about me. I can fight.” She joked as the pair approached the group. Lauren’s arm had found her shoulders, squeezing as she then rubbed up and down her arm a couple times as a soothing gesture, her head turned to look at her friend with a frown.

“Don’t joke, you know how crazy shit has gotten.” Lauren stated, her friend’s features softening as she looked at her and nodded reluctantly. Her friend turned to gesture to a few work friends, girls buried deep in the booth who waved and squealed greetings to the birthday girl, Lauren gesturing to a few guys who had collected into one corner and were chattering amongst themselves; the familiar guy Lauren had been talking to, coming out from a trio that had been talking while they settled, “You remember Nick, right?”

Her gaze turned to Lauren briefly, raising her eyebrows subtly as Nick stepped forward and leaned in for a hug, pressing a kiss to her cheek as a greeting, “Ah, she made it! Happy birthday.” Nick said as he leaned in, releasing her from his grasp after a moment, her own hand lingering on his shoulder as she pressed a kiss to his opposite cheek and flashed a smile at him, “We were starting to think you were going to back out again.” He remarked, though there was a playful tone to his words as he straightened up.

“Blame work— hours are long, work is hard.” She replied, withdrawing her hand from his shoulder though his remained, touching her side as he laughed.

“Yeah, yeah— Lauren said you were quite the workaholic earlier,” He said, taking a sip of his drink as she shrugged in turn, “I’m starting to see what she meant.” Nick said after a moment, leaning over as he spoke, his lips close to her ear before he withdrew again and took his hand back. Her gaze shot towards Lauren who was mid-task of mixing a drink, a sloppy version of a vodka-cranberry as she watched on, meeting her gaze over the rim of her drink. Nick excused himself, rambling some explanation of allowing her the opportunity to greet the rest of her ‘guests’, reaching to take the expensive bottle of vodka from Lauren and waving with his fingers. She slid her purse from her shoulder and tossed it on to a rack above the booth, looking at Lauren as she exhaled.

“I forgot how touchy he was.”

Lauren choked on her drink, snorting in response and shrugging, her hands lifting in a surrendering gesture as she stuttered out some incoherent noises. She grinned and reached for the drink in her friend’s hand, taking it from her grasp to bring it to her mouth, taking a drink from the thick mock glass cup, “I think he just likes you.” Lauren commented, her voice low enough to prevent him from hearing as he leaned past them to grab a mix from the table, his chest brushing her shoulder as he moved past her to make himself a drink. Her head turned to glance at him, being flashed a smile and an apology as he leaned away after a moment, her head tilting at Lauren and eyes widening as she mouthed for her to shut up. Lauren laughed again and reached for her drink back, hand waiting as she took one last drink before surrendering it back to her, her gaze flipping over her shoulder.

“Too bad you like someone else,” She teased, gesturing by jerking her chin behind her and following Lauren’s gaze over her shoulder to where Joe was distracted by his own conversation; swaying slightly to the music in a way that — from her spot — looked utterly ridiculous. “Joe’s here. Quick, which underwear are you wearing?” She asked, her head snapping towards her friend as she jokingly tugged on the hem of her dress.

She swatted her hand away, “Oh, drop it— leave it alone already, it's been like five years.”

Lauren leaned into her, her shoulder bumping hers, “Four, actually.” She corrected, smiling in her face as she snatched her cup once more to choke down the contents.

“He was on a break with Olivia, the guy is hardly out of there— leave him be.”

“Maybe he use the could pick me up.” Lauren insisted, her eyes on her friend's face as she shuddered, letting out a quiet gag from the drink that was disproportionately poured by her friend's drunk hand; Lauren scoffed, laughing as she took the empty cup away and set it on the table. “If you won’t, maybe I will.”

“You’re so not funny, that’s gross.” She replied, swatting her hip as she reached once more for the bottle that had been returned by Nick a few moments earlier, “Weren’t you talking to Nick? Is that not what I saw?” She asked, though her tone hinted at teasing her friend who snapped up with the bottle and practically choked out an excuse, nodding her head and mouthing a ‘yeah, yeah’ as Lauren nudged by her and started to shuffle back towards Nick, earning a snort.

“What’s not funny?”

She turned as a body appeared behind her, her left shoulder colliding with his chest as she turned slightly to look up at Joe’s face as he stared after Lauren for a moment before looking back down at her; his eyebrows raising as she could faintly make out a small, crooked smile on his face from behind his drink as he took a sip, awaiting her answer,

“Ah, just the man we were talking about.” She responded, his eyebrows raising further as he lowered his cup, “I was just saying we hadn’t heard from you in a while for a minute there— did you change your hair?” She replied, her tone laced with amusement as she reached up and brushed the hair that hung over his forehead.

“I’m a busy guy.” He replied, eyeing her for a moment as her hand dropped from his face as she noted just how close he stood, leaning against the railing with an elbow propped up, “Come on, what did she really say? I want in on the details like one of the girls.”

She snorted, turning entirely to face him and mirroring his posture of leaning into the banister with her elbow, “A guy in a relationship, you mean. You’re not one of the girls though, Joe, sorry — classified.” She witted.

“Not anymore.” He quickly corrected, his gaze fixed on her face as he took a sip from his drink; silent for a moment as the comment weighed there between them, hanging in the air as her eyes scanned his face, head tilted as she then smiled and shook her head.

“It’s good to see you, Joe.” She finally said after a pause, disregarding the warmth in her cheeks as she redirected the conversation.

“It’s good to see you, too, happy birthday by the way.” He replied, swallowing and lowering his cup before he tipped it towards her, drawing her eyes to it for a split second as she registered the offer. He seemed to take her silence as an answer, bringing the lip of the cup to her mouth and tilting it to her lips as her hand rose to try and wrap around the circumference of the cup; though his hand remained there, guiding the drink as she swallowed the sweet liquid — whiskey sour. His gaze held hers as she took a few cautious sips from the cup, careful not to mess her lipstick more or spill any of its contents on herself, “Easy there, baby.” He quietly laughed as she leaned away, her hand coming away from the glass to cover her mouth as she licked her lips clean of excess dribble.

She wouldn’t linger on the nickname, stepping back as her hands dropped to her sides and clenching there for a moment as she inhaled, having to take a quiet breath; a mental reminder of how intense his presence could be, even four years later, the tension palpable as she swayed between her feet and glanced behind him at the rest of the group that was distracted by their own conversations. “I’m going to…” She said, gesturing behind her towards where a bar was shoved into a corner, just below the stairs of their sectioned off area, his eyes following her movements. “I’m going to get a drink.” She finally finished.

His gaze stayed on her as he nodded, mouth turning down in an upside down smile for a moment from behind his drink — she suddenly felt so bare under his stare, backing up a few steps that were wobbly as it felt as though the wine and liquor was starting to catch up to her, her skin on fire and feeling the buzz’s effect as it had reached her fingertips. She turned around to walk, her hand reaching out to skim the banister as she walked as fast as her feet would allow her, flashing a smile to the bouncer who once again offered a hand to help her step down and back to the general floor where she beelined for the bar. Her hands awkwardly gripped the ledge, using it for support as she let out a breath, leaning forward but cautious not to press into the countertop that was sticky from spilled drinks as she waved over a bartender who smiled as she approached; a beautiful girl with that perfect white smile and long hair, skin on display as she slid a drink to a patron to her right,

The bartender leaned over, “What can I get you?”

She hesitated, “A whiskey sour!” She stated, having to shout over the music as the girl nodded and immediately began assembling her drink. Her gaze watched as she perfectly poured the liquor, skilled hands working the bartender then slipped a straw into the cup and handed it over, her hands lifting to mimic the number.

“Twelve!”

“Put it on my tab!” Joe replied over her shoulder as he waved to the bartender who glanced at him then nodded, “I’ll grab another one, too, thanks.” He stated, the girl smiling as she nodded once more and began to put together a second drink, glancing at the two as she slid it across to him and stepped away.

Her head turned as he reached past her to grab the drink from the counter, having already discarded his other cup at some point between reaching her, her gaze on him as he immediately plucked the straw out and tossed it into a garbage just behind the counter. He looked good— with or without the lighting, he always looked good. His haze scanned the crowd for a moment as she stared at him, reminded just how easily he could knock the wind out of her lungs as she had to force herself to breathe normally, his eyes turning to find her again. “Consider it my birthday gift.” He said, leaning down so his mouth was near her ear, his shoulder brushing hers with the movement.

She nodded after a moment, the close proximity bringing forward an image of his lips on her neck, his breath fanning over her skin as he’d mumbled something she could barely make out — she hated guys who were still hung up on exes and were fresh out of relationships.

She lifted her drink to tap his own, “Thank you then.” She sweetly replied, her head turning to look at him as his face hovered close, his nose just nearly brushing hers from the close proximity; finding his eyes that scanned over her face slowly, taking in every inch of her features as he flashed a small grin — that stupid fucking smile. She really hated pretty men, especially pretty men who were hung up on exes.

#jburrow #joe burrow imagine #joe burrow x reader #Joe burrow #cincinnati bengals #nick bosa #jburrow x reader

[lazyjellyfish300]

Only we know 💭💥🕷️

Miguel O'Hara x gn! Spider Reader

Synopsis: a request for my lovely @swiftyangx12 🖤🖤🖤 TY FOR REQUESTING and your patience 😩😩" How about Miguel and Spider![Reader] attend at a Comic Con back in [Reader]’s world?

The plot for this one is [Reader] signed up to participate in a cosplay competition and they invited Miguel as their moral support (and he took that opportunity since he has a huge crush on them and they also like him back so they can show off their work). I’m thinking of them dressed up as Jinx from LOL Arcane series."

Word count: 2.6k whoops

CW: SLIGHT SUGGESTIVE, MINORS DNI, FLUFFY FRIENDS TO LOVERS

@1-900-venusluvs @thatone-writer

-----

You documented your location, voice recording your mission notes as you drew up an orange portal back to Earth 928, tossing the bound anomaly through it like a sack of potatoes before you followed shortly afterwards, leaving the senior citizens at the retirement home with higher blood pressure and jaws on the floor.

Another day on the job complete.

Few things kept you motivated like having a big event marked on your calendar. This summer's item was going to be Comic Con, held in your dimension Earth 108-13. You were particularly looking forward to this one since you took a leap of faith and signed up for a cosplay competition. Also, you and your friends splurged a little bit and got tickets to the one in Las Vegas, meaning there would be a whole weekend of partying and things to do besides just the Con.

As a gamer, one of your favorite series recently came out, Arcane, which was based on a game called League of Legends you had been a long time player of, and the fandom at this time was buzzing. You had planned out your costume to coincide with the trending media and cosplay as Jinx, one of the main characters of Arcane and a playable champion in the game.

No offense to your two friends you were going with, but they had recently crossed over into dating territory, and you weren't exactly all over the idea of third wheeling for an entire weekend, especially in a place as fun as Vegas.

You had someone in mind you were going to invite. And if you weren't misreading the banter and subtle signs you were holding onto like an oath for several months, then you were quite certain he was going to say yes.

---

Spider Society HQ, Earth-928

Miguel doesn't turn much from his monitors that he's locked onto in a dead pan stare, watching the same Vulture sniffing candles at a TJ Maxx for the millionth time in a row. But his neck nearly breaks when he hears the familiar and most welcome sound of your voice.

"Hey, Migs."

"H-Hey! *Cough* I mean....hi."

His face morphs back into all business, but with just a hint of pleasantness that he only seemed to allow to bubble underneath the surface with just you. And it made your heart stop every time.

You smile at him, removing your mask, your face glistening with the sweat of a successful mission. Miguel feels his heart leap in his chest.

The afterglow sure suited you and he felt it a little bit more difficult than usual to be in your presence. Nevertheless, he didn't crack.

"Mysterio has been stowed successfully in sector 4." You say proudly, lightly panting as your breath caught up to you.

"Good, good." Miguel's lips pulled into a smile of admiration and gratitude. "I appreciate you doing that despite it being such a moment's notice."

"Ah, well it was a Moose-sterio, actually. So he went down easier than a normal Mysterio." You chuckle, casually perching yourself on Miguel's desk.

Miguel can't help but crack a smile at that. "How did he find himself at the retirement home anyway?"

"Beats me." You hum. "Maybe one of the residents hunted his family when he was younger and was out for long, overdue, revenge served cold."

Miguel shakes his head. "Now, that's a dark thought." He pauses. "But I'm afraid the moose vendetta pales in comparison to the need for multiverse stability. How do you say that plural anyway, is it mooses? Meese?"

"Nah, moose." You chuckle, kicking your legs. "One of those weird ones where the singular is the same as the plural."

"An anomaly." Miguel quips.

"Is it ever not possible for you to talk about work?" You give him an incredulous look, but still keeping the same air of playfulness.

"Old habits die hard." Miguel hums.

You notice he's gradually made his way closer to you, a little off guard when you raise your head to look at him and he's less than a foot away. Your lips part and Miguel clears his throat, turning his attention to the monitor behind you.

You slowly breathe out, that was the closest he's probably been to you the whole time you've known him. You could've sworn if the tension hung in the air any longer than it would've resulted in a kiss that finally unmasked the elephant that sure was doing its best to draw attention away from itself in the room. How you wanted him and, (unknown to you) how much he wanted you just as badly.

You figure now is a good time to ask.

"You have any plans next month the weekend of the 22nd?"

Miguel raises an eyebrow. "I don't, same Spider business as usual, why?"

"Come to the Vegas Comic Con with me. My other two friends are going but they're a couple and I'm not trying to be the odd one out all weekend."

"Vegas?" Miguel feels his pulse steadily increase. He had been to Vegas only once, and that was when he was recruiting Ben Reilly, not really having any time to pause and sightsee.

Partying and going out in public spaces wasn't exactly his thing, but the freeing feeling of being out in the city at night did kind of make him curious. He thought gambling was for chumps but he enjoyed a good card game. Maybe Vegas could be one of those "one and done" things. Just to say he had the experience.

"Yeah." You smile. "I mean, not to make it weird or anything. I just figure you need a break and I'm supposed to be cosplaying and I'm used to having at least one person tag along for moral support but-."

"I'll come."

"You....really?" You smile brightly at him, trying to make sure you weren't dreaming.

Miguel sighs. "Yeah I'll come to this... convention, as you put it."

"You don't know how excited I am right now. It's going to be fun! And you gotta dress up with me too." You smirk, your mind suddenly coming alight with all these fun ideas you and Miguel could try out.

But, Miguel is already eagerly waiting to pop that bubble, "I don't wear costumes."

You raise your eyebrows, "You wear one every day!"

"It's a suit, not a costume." He crosses his arms."There's a difference. Who are you dressing up as anyway?"

"Jinx from Arcane." You answer proudly.

"What's a Jinx?"

"Jinx is a person, silly. She's from a TV show called Arcane which is based off this game I play called League of Legends."

"Never heard of it."

"Just watch it on Netflix! There's only one season, nine episodes. It's one of those you can binge really quick."

Miguel huffs a little in amusement at that. "Okay I might watch this show, but I'm still not putting on a damn costume."

"Alright, wise guy." You cross your arms. "If you're not gonna dress up, you'll still at least come with me, right?"

Miguel smirks at you, leaning in a little closer. "Wouldn't miss this weirdo convention with you for the world."

----

Miguel's bloodshot eyes blinked with a heavy stare as the final episode of Arcane concluded, leaving his eye bag expression reflecting back to him on his dark TV.

He was definitely not beating the down bad allegations for you anytime soon, which Peter, Hobie, and Pav loved to so graciously point out every time they could.

-----

The down badness raised to another degree entirely though at the sight of you in your Jinx cosplay in your Vegas hotel room.

Blue wig with the two long braids true to the character running down your shoulders, body art design on your midriff and right arm to mimic Jinx's tattoos, some ripped up purplish-maroon capris, a black crop top and leather accessories to accent the look on your arms, reminiscent of a sort of edgy steampunk vibe, with combat boots and some magenta colored contacts on your eyes, making you seem even more otherworldly and ethereal.

Miguel can't stop gawking, his feelings ranging from awe, to admiration, to pure want, to sudden jealousy at the realization that other people, (most likely hundreds since you were a contestant after all) will get to lay eyes on you all day like this.

Luckily, you're too anxious and proud of yourself to notice, examining yourself in the mirror for any details that might be off, but you could see none, turning and giving him that signature smile of yours that makes the tops of his ears turn red.

"Y-you look great." He manages to say, in a tone that he only hopes disguises his obvious affection and wordless effect you have on him.

His disguise is completely transparent, however, but you try and mask your obvious flattery and slight giddiness at his reaction. "Thanks, Mig."

But, you're horrible at pretending, too, a fact that he mentally seizes with both hands, stuffing in his back pocket for later with a dizzy look of admiration when your back is turned.

Once you're wholly satisfied with the look, and both ready to go, you and Miguel and your friends hit the Vegas strip, Miguel trying to keep his cool as neck after neck turns as you walk by.

Once at Comic Con, you end up losing your friends, off in a world of their own as a newly formed couple, leaving just you and Miguel alone.

Miguel's eyes soften when you take a picture of your passes hanging from matching lanyards side by side angled at the ground with both pairs of your shoes in the shot and post it to your social media stories, realizing you have every intention of showing him off.

You feel fuzzy on the inside when you get stopped for pictures with fellow attendees, giving you numerous compliments at how good you look and chatting about how much they love Jinx and they're so stoked to see such a well done cosplay. (That $500 charge to the arts and crafts store was Soo worth it)

Your favorite photo op was meeting someone with an equally wicked Vi cosplay, standing side by side in a way that looked like you both were copy pasted from the show itself.

Miguel gets mistaken for your boyfriend dozens of times, but he doesn't correct them once, just a little smile on his face as he plays photographer, butterflies in your stomach as he walks a little closer next to you, halfway shielding you in a chivalristic manner from all the extra attention as though he was your personal bodyguard.

You stop by booth after booth, politely conversing with the various artists, actors, and writers, collecting more stickers for your laptop, buying a t shirt, some adorable pins here and there. Like a kid in a candy shop, you take in and gravitate towards every one of your interests and medias you adore like a moth to a flame. Miguel endears himself even more to you with your little Oohs and Aaahs.

You notice Miguel's a little starstruck when he sees one of his favorite comic book writers as a kid, letting him know he can go for a photo op if he wants since you both have the all access tickets, smiling at how cute and nervous he looks as he approaches the writer, scooting a little closer and popping a little awkward thumbs up at the camera. Still, he comes out looking just as photogenic and gorgeous as ever. You shake your head with a smile.

Soon, it's time for the competition. You bounce your leg nervously as you sit in your chair on the stage, feeling what seems like a millions pairs of eyes boring into you, but then you catch Miguel in the audience, both of you the only two people in the room as your gaze stays anchored on him the whole time, nearly missing the announcement from the host that you were awarded first place. Miguel stands and claps loudly as he uses his fingers to whistle, leaving you with a smile that could break your cheeks.

After a successful Con and maybe a couple more bags of merch than you should have indulged in (Miguel being responsible for at least 2 of those, getting you a couple stuffies and t shirts as his congratulations for sweeping the competition away), it was time to have some fun on the town and see what Vegas had to offer.

You got matching drinks from the Hello Kitty cafe, went to the M&M's world (Miguel nearly had a stroke from being surrounded by so much sugar), and the shark reef aquarium. You could have sworn his finger brushed against yours a couple of times when you both were zoned out in the shark tunnel, completely lost in an oceanic world together with no plans to return, until a group of over-zealous and unsupervised 7 year olds nearly knocked him over.

You even convinced him to just try the slot machines once, not even waiting for his cash out coupon for 40 cents to print out before he was yanking you by the arm out of there while you were wheezing with laughter.

Sharing a 12 pack of cheeseburger sliders at White Castle (Miguel had like 8 of them), and some freshly cooked french fries, dashed with the tiniest bit of salt.

Now, you were watching the fountains at the Bellagio, both of your hands creeping closer and closer together as the show went on, until both of your arms were wrapped around each other. Your head was against his chest as the fanfare blasted in the speakers and the gorgeous aqua, teal and fuschia lights of the water lit up the Vegas sky overhead in a spectacular display like a starry watercolor painting.

The mood of the night suddenly felt extremely peaceful, and sensual, a tranquil moment between you and Miguel. Honest feelings underneath the surface that were begging to be released at long last.

You turned your head to find him already staring,

"Miguel, I...."

Before his lips already met yours in the sweetest first kiss, the water splashing behind you in front of the well lit Bellagio, the shooting colors akin to the fireworks bursting inside your heart, before you both gently break it, foreheads still pressed against the other.

"I'm-"

"In love with you?" He asks softly as he brings a thumb to your cheek, tracing the tiniest circle before he kisses you again.

"I absolutely am."

You both get lost inside this out of world experience, kissing each other underneath the warm, nighttime lights of Vegas, still dressed in your Jinx costume, both pairs of arms locked around the other, hearts stirring in your chest as you cement this moment permanently into memory.

You Uber back to your hotel, no longer staying in separate rooms with evening plans of all-night snuggles, binging another series together that you've been meaning to show him, and, if you are both still awake, maybe convincing him to run down to the lobby together for late night snacks from the 24 hour food court in your hotel, and room service waffles in the morning.

Two lovebirds brought together at last by the nighttime lights of Vegas, and all because of a little Comic Con.

A special love rooted in friendship with a sacred meaning only the two of you know about, that playful look in each other's eyes as you open the door to his hotel room, another portal to a cozy world for you two to get lost in as it softly clicks behind you.

---

#Spotify #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #atsv miguel #miguel x reader #miguel atsv #miguel ohara #miguel o'hara imagine #spiderman 2099 x reader #spiderman 2099 x you #miguel x you #miguel ohara x reader #miguel o'hara fluff

[elminx]

Since I have seen a lot of posts about correspondences in witchcraft going around again, I wanted to stop for a minute and talk about how correspondences work and why you might want to make sure that you understand the correspondences you are using in your own craft.

This is likely an oversimplification, but I think that we can break down correspondences into three main categories:

Cultural Correspondences - these are often heavily steeped in the mythology and folklore of a particular region. They are often but not always correspondences of items found in that region. This is where correspondences become the most varied because, despite what you may have read in Those Bad Witchcraft Books, culture is not universal. A great example of this is that most Western cultures associate the color black with Death and Mourning but a lot of non-Western cultures have the same association with the color white. It stands to reason that this type of correspondence will work the best for you if you are sticking as close to the correspondences of the bioregion that you grew up in as possible (1) and that they will be most effective when used magically on somebody else from that bioregion (2).

Material Correspondences - these correspondences are based on the physical properties of the item in question. Some plants are edible, some medicinal, and some poisonous. Things with thorns can hurt you when you touch them. Quartz has high levels of electric conductivity. The idea here is that if Rosemary repels insects, it can be used in a banishment spell to repel that unwanted "insect" from your life. These are, in my opinion, the immutable correspondences - the item you are using will ALWAYS carry its physical characteristics with it into your magic. Spicy peppers will always be Hot and Burning, so-called "Weeds" will always grow tenaciously, and Sugar will always be Sweet. It is worth keeping in mind here that when using plants, the part of the plant may affect whether it carries that correspondence. Sometimes only one part of the plant carries a particular property - consider the difference between the sweet scent of rose petals that we use in love spells versus the sharp thorn that would be better used for protection. 3. Sympathetic Correspondences - The base concept behind sympathy is that two things that are alike in some way share a connection with one another that can be harnessed magically. The more alike that two things are, the deeper the connection. There are many ways that this is used in magic. A lot of herbal correspondences involve sympathy through the Doctrine of Signatures. This is the thought process that anything shaped like an ear can be used to affect ears/hearing magically. The Doctrine of Signatures gets rolled in a little bit with Cultural Correspondences as it is heavily rooted in Western herbalism, but it deserves a mention on its own. Another way that sympathetic magic makes its way into correspondences is the idea that an object from a particular place carries some of the energy of that place which can be harvested for magical intent. You see this in the use of bank dirt in money spells or cemetery dirt in baneful magic. This is also where Holy water, moon water, and stormwater come into play - here we are assuming that something that has been done to the water (being blessed by a priest, charged in the moon, or collected during a storm) carries an inherent energy that can be then transferred to your spell. Depending on your viewpoint, you may or may not agree with the concepts of sympathetic magic.

And that's the whole point of this. Witchcraft, as a whole, isn't the sort of path where you are supposed to proceed based entirely on blind faith. If you're flipping to a certain page in Scott Cunningham's infamous Green Book and finding the first money herb you come across to use in a spell, you are probably doing yourself a disservice. I suggest that you look closer. Not only will the physical correspondence change how your spell manifests (I've written about this before) but you may find that you don't even BELIEVE or AGREE with that correspondence at all. And maybe that's not important to you (but if that's true, why are you even reading this?). But I suggest that it should be. That understanding of a correspondence deepens your connection with the energy of the item you are looking to use. Moreover, exploring it further may give you all sorts of juicy ideas for spellwork to augment that energy.

Do you like my work? You can support me by tipping me on Kofi or purchasing an astrology report written just for you.

#witchblr #words #mine #correspondences #sympathetic magic #folk magic